Final Fantasy: Super Smash Brothers
by PhantomDave
Summary: The kingdom of Altea and the Hylian Empire clash as kings fall and gods are stirred from their slumber. A Nintendo fic written in the vein of a classic Final Fantasy tale. Author's liberties are taken at will, on all fronts. Consider yourself warned.
1. Ch 1: Internal Affairs

The kingdom of Altea rested on turbulent ground. The surrounding lands steeped themselves in military and political machinations that the young Prince Marth had taken so much time to memorize, and so much less to forget entirely, much to the chagrin of his father and sister. Marth knew full well the weight of his duties as the heir apparent to the Altean throne, but for all his best efforts, couldn't muster the will to stand up to the galling condescension of his tutors. He'd much rather be elsewhere – among his people in town, or outside the city walls to admire the castle at sunrise.

For now, he was content to be in the castle training grounds, sword at the ready, on guard for Hardin's newest mock ambush.

Marth kept a keen eye on the grounds, scanning every feature of the landscape. His concentration was unwavering, except when cursing Hardin's strategic prowess. He glanced quickly over his shoulder the second that thought crept up. One second's lapse was all it took to find himself at the end of a spear.

A rustling to his right caught his attention. He turned abruptly toward it and only just got out of the way of a soldier's spear blow. He countered with a rising slash, striking the man in his armored leg. The man retreated, and a second took his place, immediately opening with a flurry of thrusts. Marth stepped nimbly around the assault and aimed a thrust which struck the other man in the exact center of his breastplate. He retreated, allowing a third man with an axe to lumber into the fray.

Marth tensed as the fighter's axe came down like a shot from a trebuchet. Strong, with no shortage of passion, but couldn't aim worth a damn. Typical fighter technique. Marth allowed himself a flourish before connecting with his opponent's pauldron.

All three of them stepped back.

"If only your lessons in diplomacy went as smoothly," Hardin said from behind him.

Marth felt the cold edge resting against the back of his neck and paused. How in the hell did he _do_ that?

Hardin lifted the blade, letting Marth turn to him. His bony face remained ever still, but his eyes glinted with amusement. "It's like I told you, Your Highness. If you direct too much of your energy toward a single goal, you'll open yourself to attack from another angle. Let this tunnel vision become a habit, and you won't last very long."

Marth sheathed his blade. "If it were anyone other than you, old friend, I might have done better than a mere three men."

"You were expecting more?"

"I was expecting you to be behind them, as you were the last five times we did this exercise."

"Once again, be wary of that single-mindedness."

"I understand, Hardin. Next time I'll have my wits about me."

"You may want to have them about you now. Your father and sister expect you to join them for a summit tomorrow with an emissary from Hyrule."

Marth narrowed his eyes. "So soon after losing their king?"

"I don't like it either. Something about this business puts me off."

"You suspect foul play?"

"It's too early to tell."

"I just hope something good will come of this meeting."

"There shouldn't be a problem, so long as you stick by what you've learned with your other tutors."

Marth stuttered for a second. "One can only...go so far with lessons. I'm sure practical experience would-"

"Highness, this is a matter of grave import. Practical experience is best informed by-"

"Learning the experiences of others," they both finished in unison.

"I know," Marth said. "But those tutors and their insufferable superiority. How is one supposed to learn anything if their instructor treats them like an imbecile?"

"You're no imbecile, Marth. And I have every confidence that you'll do splendidly at the summit."

Marth smiled and nodded. For a moment, Hardin let himself smile back.

But then it was back to business. "That concludes our today's training. Take to heart everything you've learned, and you may live to fight another day."

"Excellent," Marth said. "You're welcome to join us for dinner."

"I'm afraid not, Your Highness. I have other matters that need seeing to." He started back to his quarters, and called back, "Good luck with your father. He's in an unusually poor mood today."

Marth sighed. Bad day of lessons, and the king already running low on patience. Here was going to be another miserable dinner.

* * *

Not far to the northwest, Hyrule Castle bustled with merchants, courtiers, and soldiers, all of whom were mourners not much more than a week ago. The entire kingdom was still reeling from the sudden passing of their benevolent king, and his young daughter has since been feeling very old since her rapid ascension. Zelda hadn't gotten used to calling the throne hers, even as she sat in it, contemplating the slow passing of endless days.

She gazed through the stained glass window, watching the sun set behind the mountains and listening for her name to come up as the two old crones blathered away about something in the corner. Ugly knots of leathery skin and wiry hair and bulging, alien eyes, each with her own matching broomstick. Sisters, as she was given to understand it. Twins.

 _How interesting,_ she thought _._

Koume and Kotake were their names. Desert-dwellers, and accomplished mystics brought on for their knowledge of the black arts. Zelda recalled her meeting with them the day after the funeral – less because they had anything meaningful to say and more because they kept mentioning the late king in that shrill, flagrantly disrespectful rasp. They spoke about him as if he were a former pet rather than a former ruler. And their empty condolences only made it worse.

Zelda wasted no time excusing herself from that meeting.

She listened to the crones' babbling offhandedly, and heard her name once or twice in the past several minutes of exchange. Whatever their topic was, Zelda was a secondary concern.

The rest of the throne room was empty, except for Chancellor Cole, who seated himself behind a table flanked by two castle guards. He wore his usual loud green suit that strained the eyes to look at, and an oddball pair of hats on his head. Zelda watched him through the corner of her eye, waiting for him to get up and leave.

Chancellor Cole was an oddity, and not just because of the two hats. He somehow wormed his way up to the head of the king's court, earning his title in the process, and since then has been the most singularly worthless courtier in history. All day, every day, as Zelda sat the throne and did her best to tend to matters of state, he did nothing but stymie visitors to the chamber, delay meetings with ambassadors, and create issue where there was none.

Zelda tolerated him on the grounds that she didn't know anyone who could replace him. The one man she could trust for the job had zero talent for politics. Perhaps if she had simply gone to more of her father's meetings...

She sighed, wishing there would be some emergency to break her out of her slump and get her working on something. A distraught Ordonian peasant, she could handle. A merchant complaining about taxes would be an equal blessing.

Why did the goddesses burden her with such misery as boredom?

"Is there a problem, Your Majesty?"

Zelda grimaced and straightened herself. Cole's voice would crack glass if he spoke loud enough. "Nothing that need concern you, Chancellor."

"As Hyrule's chief courtier, I feel obliged to be concerned."

He was terrible at sounding sincere. "You're not obliged to do anything other than what I tell you, Chancellor. Is that clear?"

"Oh, crystal, Majesty. I merely wish to know that I might be of some assistance in this uncertain time."

"You may help by keeping to your own business instead of prying into mine."

Cole painted his face with a hideous grin, his catlike eyes narrowing in equal parts wariness and delight. "But there is a matter of grave urgency that needs your attention. Perhaps a look into this will shake you from your doldrums."

Zelda leered at him, puzzled.

Cole nodded and produced an envelope. Unsealed. Awaiting royal approval.

She guarded herself.

Cole continued, "I know this comes on the morn of such rough tidings, with the failed Ordon insurrection. However, the generals have seen fit to establish an outpost further south."

"An outpost? Near the Altean border?"

"It's a difficult time for us all, Majesty. Other nations are starting to see our position weakened following your dear father's passing. They recommended it to me as a deterrent to keep the Altean armies at bay."

"You suggest a deterrent against a neutral state."

"Not neutral for much longer, we suspect."

Zelda shot to her feet, dwarfing her elder and staring intensely into his very soul. "You tell the generals that they are not to come within a hundred miles of the border, by royal decree."

"Would that I were able to comply, Majesty," he said unfazed, "but we have received word from our envoy in Altea that he's had to double his guard since his arrival. The people there are gearing for battle, and suspects the army to follow suit."

"And why did I never see any letters?"

"Your late father trusted me implicitly on foreign affairs."

"I'm not my father," she snarled.

"I meant no offense, I assure you. It's a simple matter of our commanders interpreting our-"

"To hell with the commanders!"

She stopped herself abruptly. Even temper. Level head.

Dusting herself off, she addressed him slowly and firmly. "It's obvious that I was excluded entirely from the decision to encroach upon Altea, but I'll deal with that later. It's unlikely you would have come to me for nothing."

"Why would I waste your valuable time?"

"Chancellor Cole, what is in that envelope?"

He raised it to her with a flourish. "The formal declaration of war."

Anger erupted in her very core, and with a swing of her arm, turned itself into power to launch the little wretch to the far side of the chamber, where he landed heavily between the twin witches. "I want you out of my sight," she said. "If you go any further over my head, you'll spend the rest of your days rotting in the castle dungeon."

A heady silence permeated the chamber. Cole was gravely quiet as Koume and Kotake led him out into the courtyard, but Zelda could swear she saw the trace of his trademark demonic grin as he turned the corner.

The door closed behind the three of them, and Zelda sat heavily in the throne. She fixated on the back of her hand. The magic that coursed through her body was the hallmark of Hylian royalty, and extremely powerful besides. She hated to say that she enjoyed abusing her power in that moment. While Cole needed to be taught a lesson, she had to think about what image she presented to the people.

She clasped her hands together as if to pray, but could think of no appeals to make. Her mind ran circles around her head as terrifyingly vivid thoughts of war and destruction obtruded themselves upon her. Under her breath, she recited an old verse of penance in the vain hope it would give her some peace.

Then she sent for a messenger. There was work to be done.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Welcome to what must be, in my opinion, one of the more daring experiments with author's liberties on this site. My interpretations of certain characters are going to be different from most folks', but that's because I'm not basing their personalities on any one game. I hope you can come to enjoy my views on things._

 _On Marth:  
I'm very much aware of Marth's character in his home series, but I felt that there wasn't much room for him to grow there. I'll speak more on him in later chapters. Spoilers, baby. For now I will say that I don't plan to wholly depart on Marth's character from the Fire Emblem games; just enough for it to kind of make sense.  
_

 _On Zelda:  
_ _I've decided I'm going to base her character on a mix of Wind Waker and Twlight Princess, with a bit of FFIV's Rydia thrown in for good measure. I've often thought about what would happen if a younger Zelda had to suddenly mature. For the purposes of this story, we'll say she's seventeen. In most of Zelda's appearances, she's usually portrayed as insightful and intelligent, which I'm trying to get across here._


	2. Ch 2: Rumors and Whispers

_Thanks to MetaNightmare88, darkpaladin89, and SammerKingdom for reviewing this piece. An author's life is never happier than when they receive feedback._

* * *

Marth dreaded the coming of every supper these days. His father was never in any mood to talk, and when he was, it was never about anything pleasant. Elice, on the other hand, tried her best to fill the void with happier topics, but every attempt she made at conversation was deflected. As he walked through the corridors, he tried to envision what this evening would bring. Then he would remember Hardin's words about focus and keep his eyes nailed to the carpet.

By the time Marth reached the dining room, the servants had already finished bringing out the meal. Elice and his father were both seated already. The spread was modest – mostly soup and pheasant – but that was to be expected; the harvest was poor, and the three of them agreed to reduce their consumption of the crop. The townspeople needed food, too.

Cornelius lifted his head to address his son. "Take a seat, Marth," he said. His face, while illuminated by candles, still seemed to be cast in deep shadow. Fresh lines adorned the crags on his aging face. He didn't look well at all. Elice offered a kind smile, but said nothing.

Marth sat next to his sister as she took her portion and shifted her eyes between her brother and father, her face unreadable. Finally, she broke the silence. "How did you fare in your lessons today, brother?"

"No better or worse than yesterday," Marth mumbled.

"My condolences," Elice said behind a smirk.

"I enjoy reading about diplomacy and discourse more than hearing about them, especially from these tutors."

"I expect nothing less. They're treating you to the same living hell I endured under their wing."

"Forgive me if I don't feel honored."

"A shame, too. Such eloquence is wasted on a warrior prince."

Marth sighed heavily. "Please, Elice, not the 'pen and sword' speech again."

"Then I'll get right to the point. Your instructors are infuriated not because you have difficulty. Quite the opposite, they all agree that this comes almost too easily for you. You're wickedly sharp, an able speaker, and have your share of charisma, as well. Just look when you walk about town. The people adore you."

"My loyalties lie with Altea, and nothing else. Diplomacy has always been more your specialty, anyway."

"Diplomacy is the duty of every monarch. How would a nation survive if her ruler couldn't get along with her neighbors? Isn't that right, Father?"

Marth heard the way she raised her voice for that last word. She wanted them to talk. _Caution to the wind,_ he thought. "You're uncannily silent tonight, Father."

It took a moment for Cornelius to respond. "You're aware of the summit tomorrow, correct?"

"With an envoy from Hyrule, yes."

"At least I can count on Hardin to keep you informed."

"Will it be Chancellor Cole again?"

"Not this time. We'll be speaking to an ambassador he personally selected."

"I'm loath to trust any 'ambassador' chosen by that worm."

"The people of Hyrule seem to hold him in high esteem."

"Father," said Elice, "Why not tell Marth more about this ambassador? Surely you've heard more than just stories."

Cornelius shook his head solemnly. "Everything that comes up around him is rumor. None of it has been proven, and I don't know if any of it can."

"And his name?"

"I don't know. I was never informed."

"Then how, pray tell," Marth protested, "are we to know if he's the ambassador?"

"He will be under the Hylian banner, accompanied by two of their generals, as explained in the Chancellor's correspondence."

Marth paused, stirring nervously at his soup. He racked his brain trying to think of a reason that one of the largest kingdoms in the land would bother with an anonymous envoy. It sounded like some kind of game that the sadistic little Chancellor would play, that was for certain.

 _It doesn't add up,_ he thought. _They have no need to fear for their security. Diplomacy hasn't foundered. Why all the secrets?_

Elice broke the silence. "You spoke of rumors, Father. Could you perhaps relate some of those to us?"

Cornelius scratched his beard. "It's a different flavor from your usual Hylian posturing. Some of it crosses into mania. They're saying he was singlehandedly responsible for ending the blaze that threatened an entire province decades ago."

Marth scoffed. "Absurd," he said. "It would take a dozen mages of incredible power to put out a fire that size."

"It does seem odd," Elice said. "A rainstorm miraculously appearing over their highest mountain and snuffing the blaze after a three-day downpour."

"They're trying to frighten us," Marth said. "They think if we can believe this one man has that kind of strength, we wouldn't dare challenge him."

"Wise observation, Marth," Cornelius said. "Perhaps you have been paying attention to your lessons after all."

Marth very obviously failed to laugh. The conversation died, and the three of them listened to the silence as they ate.

* * *

Wind. Leaves.

Birdsong. A running stream.

Dirt crunching underfoot. The light _clink_ of metal on metal.

Link rose his head, taking in the sounds. He'd always loved to stop and listen to nature. He liked to think he didn't have much to say most of the time anyway, especially with no one else around.

Falling stone. Woodpeckers.

They called this place the Lost Woods, whoever "they" were. They'd been "lost" for as long as he could remember. Not that they were very difficult to find; he'd been exploring this place since he was a small boy – since before Uncle went into the army. Any map you could buy had them right in the same spot.

Far from the bustle of the Castle Town and the turmoil of the borderlands, the wood was a pleasant place to get lost in. The scenery was of such ethereal beauty that it was easy to forget one was in Hyrule at all. A thick mist coated the floor, obstructing the paths, and what light made it through the canopy was somehow transformed, twisting eerily into bizarre colors and uncanny shapes.

Wingbeats. The cry of a creature he didn't recognize.

That was strange. He'd walked every inch of these woods and met just about every beast it had to offer. It sounded strangely human, too. Playful, like a child, but nothing like the Skull Kids. It was far away, whatever it was. And it didn't sound dangerous.

Footsteps approaching swiftly. The ring of his blade as it parted the air.

Then the dull thud of the messenger falling onto his rump to avoid it.

With a sheepish chuckle, Link replaced his sword.

The messenger picked up his battered rucksack, rose, and dusted himself off. "We really must stop meeting like this," he said. "To business, I have a letter addressed to Mister Link. It comes from the-"

He placed his hand over the messenger's mouth, abruptly shutting him up.

A snap of a twig and a familiar snarl. Lots of them.

Link drew his sword and shield, and turned to the source of the sound. They seemed to be coming from the stream.

Six beasts with large, gurgling muzzles and bulbous heads appeared out of the brush ahead. Link noted the stones rolling in their gullet. A pack of hungry Octoroks. They must have been desperate if they were willing to group up like this to attack. The creatures eyed the duo nervously. Link let the tension in his muscles slack. Maybe they could be scared off.

Unfortunately, the messenger wasted no time in starting to panic."We must do something, quick! They'll make a feast out of my deliveries!"

Spurred on by his reaction, the Octoroks positioned themselves to strike. Link sighed wearily and did the same.

The monsters spat their payload in unison, and six large stones came barreling at him at once. He raised his shield, deflecting the stones and sending them back to the source. One struck an Octorock perfectly between the eyes, killing it instantly with the force of the impact. The rest bounced ineffectually into the brush as the beasts skittered about.

Link took initiative and lunged forward, managing to impale one on his blade. With a quick upward motion, he bisected the Octorok and moved to attack another. As he struck at the next one, it fired, knocking his attack off course and saving its partner, who shot another stone the moment it saw the opening. The projectile rock hit a glancing blow on Link's stomach, causing him to recoil in both pain and surprise; he'd been going too long without practice.

Link barricade himself behind his shield as the Octoroks continued raining rubble on him. Though none of the rocks could get around the wooden bulwark, the monsters didn't relent in their assault. If he moved, he would be an easy target.

Thinking quickly, Link dropped his sword and produced a bomb from his belt pouch. He ripped the flint cap off the fuse, igniting it, then threw it toward the densely-packed group of Octoroks. Only one managed to realize the threat, and tried too late to escape. It, like the rest, was caught in the blast and scattered to the far corners of the woods.

Link picked himself up and sheathed his sword, squinting his eyes at the maddening buzz in his ears. Gods, he hated to use those.

Replacing his shield, Link looked around for where the messenger might have hid. A bush moving against the wind gave him away.

Link whistled in that direction, and the messenger poke his head out of the shrubbery. Satisfied that it was safe, he rose from his haven and shuffled once more into the clearing.

"Now," he said breathlessly, "as I was saying, you have a letter, Mister Link. From the Prin-" he stumbled over the word. "The Queen. She says it's urgent."

He held out the envelope, sealed with the crest of the royal family.

Link took it from his hands and looked it over for a moment before putting it in his pouch. "Tell her I'll be there first thing tomorrow," he said.

* * *

 _Boy, we're off to a slow start. I threw a bit of action in here to break up the meandering politics, but all I did was make this thing longer. Hope I didn't bore you guys too much, but this dinner scene is important; Elice and Cornelius may come into play later._

 _Also (and I should have said this in the first chapter), there are no OCs in this story. Everyone with a name or title is from some Nintendo production._

 _On Link:  
_ _He's voiced! Hey, if Guy from FFII can have lines, so can he. The cool thing about writing him is that I can do whatever I want, character-wise; in most games he's a total blank slate. I've created something of a composite Link pieced together from various Zelda games, with a smidgen of personality input from FFXII's Vaan. You'll see it as we go along. What's more, I and several others have this headcanon that Hylians have sensitive hearing, hence the "sounds" portion of his section._


	3. Ch 3: Anticipation

_Ace Axolotl and darkpladin89, you guys are most awesome. Thanks for the reviews. Now, on with the show._

* * *

 _Link,_

 _I know you haven't the patience for reading at length, so I'll get right to the point. Hyrule is in grave peril, and I am powerless to save her._

 _Ever since my father's passing, I've found it increasingly difficult to keep order. I have almost no control over anything that happens in the day-to-day running of my kingdom, and even more worrisome is the fact that the court has seen fit to leave me out of foreign affairs._

 _Chancellor Cole is barely trying to hide his insidious scheming. In fact, I could swear he takes no small measure of joy in taunting me, goading me into this perverse game of cat-and-mouse while threatening our allies with war. He has selected an envoy (I know not who) to speak with the king of Altea, and I fear the exchange will only further deteriorate our tenuous partnership._

 _I can hear my father's voice urging strength, but every time I suffer the sight of him and his reprobate minions, I'm taken with the urge to destroy something. But even though I feel my grasp on the kingdom slipping, I remain the Queen and must act in such a manner as befitting that title._

 _You are my strength now, Link. You are the only one in Hyrule I have left to trust._

 _Hurry to the castle. I will await you in the courtyard. Speak to no one along the way._

 _Zelda_

* * *

The sun had only begun to coax itself over the horizon when Zelda ambled out to the courtyard. She often wished it had more features than just the stream and a few benches, but at this godless hour, she couldn't bother herself to care. The flowers hadn't even woken up yet.

 _So this is what I'm reduced to,_ she thought.

She slumped onto a bench, dearly missing her bed. Last night was an interminable episode of restlessness and anxiety. If it were just simple nightmares, she might have easily gotten over it. Confided in a servant, probably. Or maybe just found an excuse to sleep in. The kingdom was obviously running perfectly fine without her.

She bit her cheek to avoid spitting the bitter taste of that sentiment out of her mouth.

It was far too early in the morning after such an awful night to be waiting for the least consistent contact in the world. Link was the kingdom's most capable warrior; his performance in the king's defense against Crimea was testament to that. But he arrived on his own terms. "First thing in the morning," the messenger promised between gasps of air. Maybe that meant something different to soldiers.

She blinked and woke up nearly an hour later, squinting her eyes against the rays of the newly awoken sun. Before she could curse it for its audacity to be so damn cheerful, the telltale clink of metal on metal alerted her to her soldier's arrival.

She turned her head around. Link was there precisely on schedule, for him, anyway. Still, seeing him put her at ease. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stood. "You're late," she said.

He only shrugged in response.

"Were you followed?"

He shook his head.

"Good. You've read the letter, then, right?"

He nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm, and produced the envelope for effect.

"In that case, you should be aware of our situation. The throne is practically being pulled out from under me. If I'm to wrest control of the court back from that treacherous ogre, I'm going to need your help."

"I don't know..." he mumbled.

"Don't know? About what?"

"...Going against the Chancellor? I don't like him an more than you do, but he does have some pull in the army." He placed his hands on his hips, thinking. "Maybe even enough to order me around."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Link looked solemnly down at the envelope and back up to her.

Zelda waved it down. "From now on, you answer to me alone," she said, doing her best to mimic her father's authoritative projection. "Consider that a royal decree."

Link cracked a genuine smile and nodded. That alone made Zelda's spirit practically soar. The words "royal decree" meant nothing to him; he only ever did what was asked because he wanted to help.

She took a moment to think of what to say next, but only managed a soft, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said. "Think of it as paying you back for all the help you've given me."

Zelda nodded slowly and assumed her regal tone once more. "Cole has friends, and one of them, I suspect, is on his way to Altea under the auspices of civil negotiation. After that excuse inevitably falls through, I'll have no choice but to arm the military for defense. Assuming I'll still have command over the army by then."

"What's stopping you from throwing him in the dungeon?"

"Cole has the highest status of anyone in the court. He could easily use his connections to escape. He might be able to weasel his way out of the gallows if he needed to."

"What do I need to do?"

Without realizing, she started pacing the courtyard. "Go to Altea. I'll stall the army for as long as I can."

Link raised an eyebrow. "You want... _me_ to negotiate?" he asked.

Any other day, the idea of that would have made her laugh. "No, I want you to deliver a message. Tell them not to accept any of Hyrule's terms. Their envoy does not speak for the Queen."

"But...what of they say no?"

Her desperation became obvious in her voice. "Persuade them! I don't care how!"

Link scratched his head in a way that gave Zelda pause. Even if he didn't know how to express it, he didn't like the sound of this proposal. As terrible as he was with words, his hands spoke a language all their own. And while he might not have reason on his side, his instincts served him well. Just as she was about to come up with a better plan, he looked suddenly back at her. "I'll have it done in no time," he said confidently.

So much for a better plan. "All right. Make your way to Altea and be quick about it."

A salute and a cocky grin were all she got before he ran out of the courtyard.

She followed him with her eyes for a moment, her spirits plummeting again. As she headed back into the castle, she muttered a prayer of fortune. They all would need it.

* * *

The morning of the summit arrived far too late for Marth's tastes. He sat in the library of the castle, neck-deep in remedial negotiating tactics penned by some long-dead author. It was the same introductory material that fledgling ambassadors and novice politicians studied just for a more secure grasp on the subject. He'd already given the advanced texts a considerate skimming; there was only this book left on the subject.

Marth was already familiar with it all, but he felt more anxious than he thought he should be. Meeting with an unfamiliar envoy was one thing. Meeting with a powerful mage from a potentially hostile country was another thing entirely.

Damn this author for being so passive. All of the advice he came across suggested he take a step back and examine the other party objectively. Silently. It made him sick to think that they thought Altea could be pushed around. There was a kind of clarity in war that diplomacy sorely lacked. Part of Marth wished that Hyrule would just roll the ballistae and cannons outside the city walls, just to do away with all the nagging uncertainty.

Frustrated, Marth slammed his book shut hard enough to raise a layer of dust off the desk. _Why bother,_ he thought, _when they're just going to undermine the whole procedure anyway?_

The door behind him opened, and Hardin's voice echoed through the library. "It's time, Your Highness."

Marth's stomach turned as he stood up, his mind racing in a thousand different directions at once. "I'll be there at once," he said, barely masking his reservations.

"I am to escort you, Marth. Direct orders from the king."

 _How typical of him to not trust me,_ he thought, half-jokingly. Still, he was glad for Hardin's company. "Lead the way."

Hardin turned and did so without another word. Stepping into the corridors, Marth found them unnaturally quiet. The guard patrols were nowhere to be found, and the servants hadn't touched anything since last night; there were even a few torches burning weakly. It was about that time of day where the entire castle would be active. _Perhaps everyone was ordered elsewhere?_

He snapped reflexively to attention, as he often did around Hardin. He couldn't afford to lose a moment's concentration on stray thoughts. Act in the present, think in the future.

When they reached the conference room, Cornelius was already seated, but his sister was nowhere to be seen. Marth took his place next to his father. "Will Elice be joining us?" he asked.

"She's seeing to the throne. Otherwise I would have her here with me."

Marth only nodded in response. Cornelius waved at Hardin, who gave a salute and walked in the throne room's direction after a final glance at the royal assembly. The door shut behind him, and the king and the prince waited.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes extended into a punishing hour, and only after Marth could see over his wit's end did a runner arrive.

"The envoy from Hyrule is ready to be received, Your Majesty."

Cornelius waved him in wordlessly. The runner exited, and in walked Hyrule's ambassador.

Flanked by two knights in resplendent steel armor was an imposing giant of a man clad head to foot in red robes emblazoned with a strange eye-shaped emblem. He wore a veil over his face, leaving only his eyes and hands visible to his hosts.

"Good day, Your Majesty, and Your Highness as well," he said, his deep, sonorous voice rushing through the room like a flood. "I am Agahnim. I think I speak for us all when I say I hope this meeting is fruitful."

* * *

 _Good heavens, chapter two was a mess. Every time I go back to it, I find something else that's gone wrong. Although, to be fair, I wrote that bit on a diet exclusively comprised of cherry pop and black jellybeans, so errors were bound to occur. I'll go back to fix it later, but for now, I want to get this thing moving._

 _Yes, I'm holding you guys out on the summit, but I really, desperately need to shorten chapters. The next one ought to come fairly quickly, though (I don't hold myself to a regular upload schedule for the very fact that any attempt to do so will end in failure)._

 _Further on Zelda:  
I'm having way too much fun writing from Zelda's perspective. She is a petulant child in a grown-up's shoes and I adore her. Moreover, I think in the A/N for the first chapter that I based a bit of her persona off of FFIV's Rydia, when I really meant to say FFXII's Ashe. Guess that's another thing I need to go and change._


	4. Ch 4: Crest and Trough

_So very sorry for the delay! Life happened and I had to put revision on hold. Thanks to all my readers for their patience. You rock. Now, on with the show._

* * *

 _Agahnim._

The very name caused Marth's stomach to plunge. He'd heard the stories of Hyrule's most influential mage, but never so much as saw a picture. Seeing him in the flesh brought those stories to new and awesome life. He certainly looked the part of a miraculous spellweaver; everything from his garb down to his gait suggested that he really _could_ defeat a city-sized blaze on his own. The sorcerer stood tall and proud, his robes casting the room in shadow.

Cornelius picked up on his son's hesitation and began. "Welcome, Agahnim. We are honored to have such an esteemed figure grace our humble kingdom with his presence."

"The pleasure is mine," Agahnim said with a bow. His voice lingered long after he was finished speaking. Even his words held power.

"I must confess a certain confusion. All this business about an anonymous envoy is highly irregular."

 _Not to mention, we don't even know what we're discussing here._ Marth took another look at Hyrule's "envoy." His father was no fool; he knew none of this made sense. Why persist in the show?

"All will be explained in time, Majesty," the sorcerer continued. "Let me begin by saying that the balance of power in our kingdom has shifted. The newly-christened Queen has thus far endured a short but tense reign."

"Due in no small part to the passing of her father, I assume."

"Hard times for us all. And while she struggles to bear the weight of the crown, the castle and the court find themselves at odds with her."

"What you're saying is," Marth said at last, "Your queen is losing power."

Agahnim turned to face Marth directly. "In the simplest of terms, yes. It's hard not to pity the poor child. She's hardly begun to know the burden of her position, and already it's beginning to take its toll."

"Then why come to us?" Cornelius asked.

"Because I feel that you have something that no one in our country can provide. Something that could inspire our Queen to action."

"What purpose could Altea serve for young Zelda?"

Agahnim deliberately paused for a moment – long enough for Marth to get a good look at his guest's eyes. Narrow. Steady. Seeking control.

He wouldn't have that chance. "Aside from our sympathies, there's no meaningful assistance we can offer your kingdom," he said. "Our resources are limited, and we don't have the manpower to spare you. I'm afraid we simply can't help."

"You misunderstand," Agahnim said. "You already _are_ helping us."

Cornelius realized at the same time Marth did. "Then this isn't merely a summit."

"You're correct. It's an ultimatum."

The soldiers at his side drew their swords, prompting Marth to stand and ready his own.

Agahnim waved his men down. They stepped back, and Marth lowered the tip of his blade. "We're not at war yet, Highness," Agahnim said. "Perhaps you've guessed, but I'm acting in the interests of the Hylian people, not the Hylian crown."

"What difference does it make?" Marth said. "Coming to us with this, after betraying an adolescent monarch? You're less than a dog!"

Agahnim twisted his head sharply toward Marth, his eyes suddenly taking on a glow that sent a deep, burrowing terror into the pit of Marth's chest.

He spoke again. "Our terms are simple. You will surrender all territories to the new Hylian Empire swiftly and peacefully. In return, you will maintain a level of autonomy, as well as enjoy the protection of the Goddesses. Failure to accede to these terms will mean the destruction of your army, your castle, and any who sit the throne."

At those words, Marth banished the tension from his body. "So we're to comply or be destroyed, then?" he snapped. "Altea is not some backwater for you to bully into submission. We will fight to the end to protect our people!"

Agahnim suddenly threw out a hand. Marth reflexively braced in defense, but no attack ever came. In the distance, there was a faint rumble of thunder.

Agahnim lowered his hand. Marth could swear he saw a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "I shall take that as your answer. The generals will be disappointed to have to resort to bloodshed." He turned his back to the king and the prince and said, "This has been an enlightening visit. For what it's worth, I enjoyed my stay in your kingdom."

He strolled out of the room, soldiers close behind. Marth sat in his chair and looked to his father. For a time, neither of them said a word. But both knew what the other was thinking.

Now that it was war, it was time for preparations to be made.

* * *

Usually, the borderland scenery was something astounding. The mountain ranges that outlined Hyrule's borders receded gracefully into the Archanean plains, and travelers didn't so much as notice the way the roads gave way to trails. The sky would blanket the earth in its boundless reaches, shedding the sun's light onto every hill and vale.

Usually, the borderlands weren't being trespassed by cannons and soldiers.

Link spared no time to admire the sights and sounds of his journey, because they largely weren't there. The commanding voices and the glint of steel overtook everything. He blazed a madman's trail through the ranks of warriors, catching only brief hints of their confused frustration in their shouts as he passed.

He'd been at this on and off for hours, all the while thinking there was no way in hell he would beat that envoy there. The Chancellor and his "friends," whoever they were, had a full day's start on him. And the thicket of armor only grew more dense the closer he got to Altea, so even getting there was uncertain.

It didn't matter. He'd figure something out, like always. But he was tired. He stumbled, and came to a stop.

Only then did Link get a good look at what he was up against.

There were thousands of them, at least. Hyrule's combat elite. Each one was no doubt equipped with the best gear the kingdom could get its hands on, meaning a thicker plate and a sharper sword than Link was allotted during his time as a footman in the Eldin conflict. There were cavalry, too, astride thoroughbred warhorses and brandishing wicked spears. As if it weren't enough to stock the best fighters in the army, the machinery that accompanied them was nothing short of horrifying. A myriad assortment of cannons, battering rams, and trebuchets lined the paths in scores.

Link scanned the rows of soldiers as he crept closer to them. As far as he figured, it would take minutes for them to begin the siege of Altea. If he couldn't stop them, he could stall them. That would mean going to the front lines. The enlisted infantry would be there in droves, but it was the only plan he had.

Just as he started to pick up the pace, an armored hand grabbed his bicep and pulled him backward, nearly causing him to fall to the ground. He turned sharply, his own and snapping up to his sword, and saw a Hylian soldier with what a pair of what he assumed were new recruits. They were still in borrowed chain mail and dented helms, carrying swords that no doubt hid notches and cracks under their scabbards. The senior warrior was in brand-new, tailored armor and carried a sword along with a shield, similar to Link's own.

"You've gone far enough," the veteran said.

Link stared his opposition down.

"Well, if it isn't the 'Hero of Eldin,'" said one of the recruits. The voice under the helmet was young and boastful. Link really hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid. "I've got to admit, I was expecting a lot more."

"Yeah. We were wondering why you weren't sent out here with us," sad the other. "Then we got orders saying we were to apprehend you if we saw you."

"It might be that you turned traitor," the veteran continued. "Or perhaps the Queen sent you elsewhere. Me...?" He rested a hand on the pommel of his sword and stepped uncomfortably close to Link. "I don't care for the reason. Lord Agahnim doesn't want you here, so you won't be."

Link's eyes widened. Agahnim, giving orders to the army? He had an enviable position in the court thanks to his history of working miracles, but nothing that would warrant any command over the military.

Zelda was right. She was losing control. And with this, she might have just lost the last of it.

The soldier stepped back and drew his sword. "Now you've got a choice, Hero. Leave or be led out, in chains or in pieces."

Link froze. He'd fought alongside some of these men in the Eldin conflict; he would have gladly given his life for any of them. His deeds even won him the appreciation of some of the generals. On the other hand, these orders weren't coming from Zelda. And there was something sinister in the warriors' eagerness to take him in. He couldn't let them do that. He drew his own blade.

Nothing more needed to be said. The veteran soldier threw a cut that Link only just bounced off the edge of his shield. The two recruits unsheathed their own weapons and charged. Their lack of training was evident in the way they swung, but their zeal was more than enough to force him back an inch.

In the confusion of haphazard slashes, Link found an opening and struck, finding a gap in the senior warrior's armor. The blow was far from fatal, but it allowed him the space he needed to start on his way out. The brawl was starting to rouse the rest of the battalion, and he wasn't about to fail his mission by picking fights with dozens of men.

He picked the clearest direction and bolted, keeping his shield up and doing his best to keep the spears and swords at bay. But the weight of his gear and his earlier fatigue slowed him down. In the corner of his eye, Link saw a spearhead bearing down on him. Instinctively, his sword-arm came up in defense, and though he managed to deflect the attack, the force of it stung his hand so badly that he nearly dropped his own weapon. He really had let himself get sloppy.

He sheathed his sword quickly and thought fast. Taking a bomb from his pouch, he lit the fuse and tossed it into the crowd of soldiers, and they all scattered to avoid it. Link didn't bother looking to see where it landed or even if it stalled his pursuers, but was nonetheless encouraged by the resounding blast. Catching his second wind, he drew his sword again and poured all of his energy into flight.

Time had stopped. There was no more sound of clattering armor. Only a rumbling of voices and a rush of wind met his aching ears. Finally, he turned to see if the soldiers were still after him. He never found out. The moment his head was turned, he felt his leg fall out from underneath him, and tumbled down a deep crevasse.

Before shock could register in his brain, his head smashed against the hard wall. He thought he heard a soft splash into rushing water. Then the world fell to darkness.

* * *

Outside Hyrule Castle, the Chancellor paced the grounds frantically. Cole released himself from the witches' hold and took a step into the courtyard. It was nearly midday. Aghanim should have reported in. He had a schedule to keep, dammit. He couldn't move on to the next phase without confirmation from Altea.

The old birds started chittering again.

"What a disgraceful performance. Don't you agree, Koume?"

"Quite right, Kotake. Seems our dear Chancellor is getting restless."

"I'd be restless too if I had _my_ life riding on some harebrained war game."

"Perhaps we should cut him a break. After all, it must be incredibly stressful trying to run a country around its queen."

"Will you wretched crones be _silent?!_ " Cole snapped. "I'm trying to think!"

"How rude!" Kotake fumed. "We're trying to help you here!"

"How is your inane prattle supposed to 'help me?' I have less than twelve hours to come up with a new gambit before 'Her Majesty' puts me to the rack, or worse!"

"Don't you get it, you pompous windbag?" Koume said. "With what we have in mind, there would be no need for risky fibs."

"Get to the point!"

"It's obvious the queen is under quite a bit of stress, isn't that right, Kotake?"

"Quite right, Koume. And at our urging, Chancellor, she might be persuaded to take a...little extended vacation."

"Leave it to us. No blood on your hands, and a guaranteed delivery of the soon-to-be-former queen to her demise."

Cole squinted and tensed in anticipation. "And what will this delivery cost me?"

"The best person to determine that would be none other than our lord," Kotake said.

Cole's consternation was replaced immediately by mortal dread.

Koume went on, "Yes, and for all your decades of dedicated service, I'm certain he could find it in his heart to compromise."

"Not that this failure won't go unrecorded."

"Now, Kotake, no need to frighten the poor man. After all, he's doing his part just like the rest of us."

"Astute as always, Koume! Now, without further ado, we must be off."

At that, they both mounted their broomsticks and spiraled slowly into the air. On their way up, one of them called down, "Farewell, Chancellor! And best of luck for tomorrow!"

Cole scowled up at them as they swiftly vanished from sight. He could almost feel the mounting debt tighten around his neck. Resignedly, he started back to his manor.

The Demon King was hardly ever in a bargaining mood.

* * *

 _Author's Note: The Cole bit at the end was something I've been meaning to include since the very first chapter. I wrote that out in response to him getting admonished by Zelda at first, but I felt that it did nasty things to the pacing, so I got rid of it. Good thing I kept it around._

 _As for Agahnim, there's a little interesting production anecdote about his involvement here. Originally, the "summit" (which I admittedly wrote in a sleep-deprived haze, hence its noticeable brevity) was supposed to be handled by another character you'll meet soon, but I thought at the last minute, basically, that Agahnim would make more sense; he's a much more public figure (folks who've read the manuals to A Link to the Past will know why) and was the late King Hyrule's top adviser for obvious reasons. It would make sense, given his station and his accomplishments, that he would be the face chosen to scare Altea into war._

 _"Why war?" you ask? Well, don't worry. There's an easy answer to that as well. Just wait for more chapters to come along._


	5. Ch 5: Deathly Quiet, Deafening Silence

_So sorry for the extended wait! This was a tough chapter to write, but I got it in at last. Now, on with the show._

* * *

Hyrule Castle was eerily silent as Zelda paced the corridors. She'd run ahead of her guard, skipping supper and deciding to get a bit of extra sleep in preparation for tomorrow. Yet with every step further, the quietude began to rub at her frayed nerves. Even if the castle guard was party to Cole's treachery, she missed the sound of armored boots rattling through the halls. At this point, cannon fire would be a balm.

Her chest tightened at the thought. She found herself stopped in the castle foyer, having come full circle in her evening walk. She looked up to the far wall, above the double-door leading to the throne room. A painting of her and the king hung overhead. Zelda barely recognized the young girl staring to the side of the frame; after ten years, she only just realized in the last few weeks how much she had changed. Her father, however, looked ever forward, resolute, as he always had. His strong features and fierce gaze seemed to pierce through the oils and into Zelda's very core.

Her eyes burned, threatening tears. _If he were here, this would all be so easy._

She blinked the itch away and took a breath. She needed to be strong. Entreating the Goddesses for their power, she marched into the throne room, as much the soldier as anyone in her army.

The throne room was resplendent in the sunset. The setting sun coming in through the stained glass windows cast everything into a golden hue, and right at its center was the throne. Zelda sat down, and immediately sent for the guard.

Just for a moment, her mind drifted to Link. He'd been gone all day with hardly a word to her.

In the next moment, she purged her mind of the thought. He'd find a way to get this done.

And a few moments after that, she wondered what happened to her guards.

The double doors slowly creaked open, revealing a man in black robes, wearing a tall, pointed helmet with bulging eyes.

Slowly, he entered the throne room, making his way in long, wading strides toward Zelda. He remained utterly silent, but Zelda could make out unearthly shrieks from beyond the chamber. Could he have brought monsters into the castle?

She grew tired of the silence. Standing, she demanded, "You're intruding upon Hyrule Castle. What business do you have with the Queen?"

The man in black stopped, and spoke. "Queen Zelda," he said, his gritty baritone rolling through the chamber like a rockslide. "How lovely to finally make your acquaintance." He raised both of his arms. "But I'm afraid I'm not here to make friends. I have come to offer you a choice."

Zelda tensed and started mustering her power.

"Life, or death?"

She took a step toward him. "I don't have time for games."

"This is no game," he said, losing patience. "The question is simple. Do you choose to live or die?"

Zelda lifted her hand. "I will not humor the fancies of a madman. Take your beasts and leave, or you will be destroyed."

The man's helmet tilted to one side. "So, death it is. What a relief. Here I thought all my effort in coming here would be wasted." From beneath his cascading sleeves appeared two short, curved blades, each ringing maliciously through the chamber.

A dark cloud passed over the setting sun, throwing the room into a pall of shadow.

"In your final moments," the man said, "you may call me Zant. I hope you made peace with your Goddesses, Your Majesty!"

With inhuman speed, he lunged at her, swords still ringing. Zelda instinctively threw her arm forward, throwing a shockwave that repelled her assailant. Zant landed gracefully on the other side of the room, and vanished one of his swords. He raised his free hand and fired a volley of stygian bolts, and Zelda raised a barrier just in time to deflect them. Each blast was more powerful than the last, and her wall started cracking under the force of it.

The volley subsided, and Zant rushed forward, swinging madly. His repeated slashes forced Zelda a step backward, and she realized at last what was at stake. This wasn't some lunatic plucked from the gutter. He had skill, power, and an unmistakable zeal moving him.

Seeing that her life was on the line, Zelda cast her reservations aside and drew forth all of her might, and it formed in the palms of her hands as searing flames. Zant halted for the split second Zelda needed. Thrusting her palms toward him, she loosed a small, blazing sphere. Instinctively, Zant struck the sphere with his blade, and Zelda couldn't help but smile as it exploded, engulfing Zant and the rest of the audience chamber in smokeless, holy fire.

The blaze cast the room into noontide luminance. Zelda let her arms fall slack at her sides, internally reciting a prayer of gratitude to the Goddess of Power. Waving her hand, Zelda dismissed the inferno to see that Zant was no longer there, utterly consumed by Din's fire. She drew a heavy breath and started walking towards the double-door.

That's when the blade drew across her back.

Specks of color danced in her eyes as it cut deep. It couldn't have lasted more than half a second, but every movement of the air reminded her anew of this unfamiliar pain. The cold sting of the metal and the running heat of the blood threw her mind into shock. She pitched forward, falling to her knees. An ugly sickness overcame her, and it took everything in her power not to keel over and faint.

"You have incredible strength."

Zant suddenly materialized in front of her, brandishing one of his swords.

Zelda couldn't muster the strength to look up at him. "How did you...?" The churning in her stomach silenced her.

"I have power of my own. Not that I need to prove anything further to you." He placed the tip of his blade under Zelda's chin and tilted her head up. She nearly vomited for the spinning of the room. "Farewell, Queen Zelda." He pulled away and raised his sword overhead. "I'm sure your kingdom will remember you fondly."

In the slowest of motions, Zant readied the fatal cut. Just as he was about to deliver, a glint of light passed in front of his chest, slicing into his robes and drawing blood. He recoiled and leaped back.

Zelda wavered as the world spun and her vision blurred. She saw a streak of dark blue and black through the haze, and then a brief flash of light. All was quiet.

The last thing she remembered was falling into someone's arms.

* * *

Marth had never seen Castle Altea so alive before. The corridors teemed with soldiers and their commanders, and out the windows, he saw the ballistae being rolled out in fleets. The sight of it was inspiring; the best and bravest of the kingdom's troops all falling in to do battle against the menace Hyrule turned itself into.

He wished he could be there, to join them in the defense of their homeland. But his duties were as prince, not as commander. Regardless, he marched through the castle as though a soldier himself, clad in armor and wearing his favorite sword. He returned salutes offered by the men as he passed, and kept his eyes locked forward on the way to his father and sister.

He strode into the throne room where the soldiers had gathered in ranks to hear the words of the King. Cornelius and Elice stood in front of their thrones, each dressed in their battle regalia – Elice with her ivory robes and oaken scepter, and Cornerlius with a suit of full plate armor and carrying a blade that shone with mystic resplendence. Hardin stood at the head of the ranks, and saluted Marth as he came in. Marth acknowledged with a nod and joined his father and sister at the front of the room.

A hush came over the crowd, and Cornelius spoke.

"I come to you on this day because Altea is in dire need of you – our kingdom's finest. Defenders of the peace and prosperity of this land we have called home since the dawn of creation. After ages of historic peace, we stand on the cusp of war. My friends, this is an uncertain time for our beloved Altea. A multitude of soldiers from Hyrule are marching toward us now, intent to steal our homes, our lives and livelihoods, the very ground upon which our ancestors built this castle, all in the name of deception and conquest.

"I come to you on this day, with spirits high and heart aflame, to call you to battle! The Hylians blindly follow false leaders, but deceit holds no power over devotion. They hide behind their gods and symbols, but these are mere trifles before the valor that burns in your souls! My valor be your blade, and devotion your armor, for we fight for the future of Altea!"

The audience chamber erupted with noise. The ranks of soldiers shouted. Footmen pounded on their shields, stamped the shafts of their spears onto the floor, and waved their sword overhead. Marth unsheathed his sword and held it up at eye level in salute to the warriors. Elice raised her staff in the air, a ritual benediction for soldiers going off to battle.

Cornelius said nothing, only gesturing to Hardin, who in turn ordered his troops to their posts. The room echoed with their cries for a good long time after they were gone. Hardin himself stayed behind.

He turned to the royal assembly with a grim expression. "Are you certain of your decision, Your Majesty?"

"Quite certain, Hardin. At a time like this, there is no more fitting a place for a king than alongside his army."

Marth's eyes widened. "You're going out there?"

The king only drew a heavy breath in response.

"You haven't so much as held a sword in years!" Marth said, his face growing flush with anger. "What makes you think someone of your station can just go into the battlefield like some storybook cavalier? Do you know what would happen if we were to lose you?!"

Cornelius maintained his stubborn silence.

Elice looked at her brother with a solemn understanding, but said no more. She took a seat on er throne.

Marth froze for a moment, and then sheathed his sword. "Very well, then. If you insist on risking your neck, the least you can do is let me go with you."

"Out of the question," Cornelius said. "I won't let my only son expose himself to this kind of danger."

"You won't dissuade me, Father! Our kingdom hinges on this!"

"If I may, Your Majesty," Hardin said, "Having trained him myself, I can personally vouch for the young prince's skill."

"Hardin, you are my foremost general and advisor, but the moment Marth succumbs to the peril of battle is the moment I fail as both a king and a father."

"Do I not have the right to decide for myself?" Marth said. "I'm not a child anymore! To let you go to war on your own, in your condition, _at your age,_ would be a grave mistake!"

"You're no longer a child, but I still have a duty to protect my son!"

"I am a prince before all else!"

The room once again fell silent, except for the echoes of Marth's voice against the walls. Father and son stared each other down, both unyielding in a fruitless clash of will.

Only when the last hints of their echo faded from the chamber did Marth speak again. "I am the prince," he repeated. "As such, I have a duty to protect the people of Altea, just as you do. Let me fight by your side, Father."

Cornelius closed his eyes and turned away. "It seems at last, you begin to understand the weight of your duties," he said. "Under more peaceful circumstances, Marth, I would be proud of you. But I fear it's too late." He faced Marth full-on, a faint glimmer in his steady eyes betraying the tears. "You're more than just my son. More than even the fate of the kingdom. You and your sister are the world to me. And I would gladly lose this castle to Hyrule ere I lose either of you."

Marth's throat tightened as his combative spirit left him.

"This conversation is over," Cornelius said, starting for the door. "Hardin, we're needed at the front."

With not another word, the two of them left the chamber, with Marth standing back and watching. The doors closed behind them, and all of Marth's energy drained from him. He sat in his throne, he and Elice separated by their father's own in the middle.

He turned his eyes to the ceiling. "Stubborn old fool," he muttered.

"Marth," he heard Elice say.

He glanced in her direction.

"Go to him."

"I don't think you heard the decree," he said bitterly.

"I'm making a new one," Elice said. She stood, her disposition turning regal and commanding. "I want you to go and make sure he doesn't do anything foolish. In the meantime, don't do anything that may end with you getting killed. If you won't listen to a plea from your sister, then perhaps a request from the princess to her royal peer will do."

Marth could only look in awe at Elice. Standing in front of her throne, speaking so confidently and decisively, she looked like a true monarch. He felt a new wave of vigor come over him, and he shot to his feet. "That I will," he said. "Don't worry, Elice. I'll keep Father safe. I promise."

Elice couldn't hold back her smile. "Good. Now hurry, before you miss the battle."

* * *

 _Author's Note: Like I said, tough chapter to write. Most of the difficulty comes from the fact that the pacing is still kind of inconsistent. We've already gotten to the point where the story on Hyrule's end is developing a lot quicker than Altea's, and the chance for a seamless convergence grows ever slimmer. Worry not, readers; I've got a plan B._

 _But first, I'd like to pose a question. Do I have this thing categorized properly? I don't want to call it a crossover, but since I'm writing this like a Final Fantasy game, I should probably think about noting that somewhere in the fine print. What do you think?_


	6. Ch 6: The Battle of the Altean Plain

_I apologize to everyone for my long absence, but I manage at last to get this thing done. darkpaladin89 and Ace Axolotl, thanks so much for your feedback on the previous chapters. Now, on with the show._

* * *

Rolling rocks. The running of water. Distant shouting.

Link slowly became aware of his own thoughts again, feeling the cold wetness of a flowing stream as it rushed down his back. It might have been refreshing had it not gotten him so stiff.

He came to recognize the water before realizing he'd been lying down. He sat up, eyes shut tight against the soreness in his head. He didn't dare try to open them until the rest of his senses came down from the clouds. As usual, his ears got the worst of it. Simply hearing anything hurt.

Animal screeching. Human bellowing. Swords and shields colliding. The ceaseless staccato of metallic impact made Link's head throb in slow, dull agony.

He groaned and splashed his face with the water from the stream, clearing the fog from his mind. He stood carefully and opened his eyes to find himself in a ravine. Looking up, he determined that he must not have fallen very far, only very badly. He _had_ gotten sloppy.

Link braced himself and began climbing. The rocks jutting from the cliff wall were good handholds, and the incline wasn't particularly difficult. As blind spills into ravines went, he could have done much worse. Cresting the cliff wall at last, his heart crept up his throat as he gazed onto the Altean plain. For as far as he could see, soldiers of both the Hylian and Altean armies collided, spilling blood, shearing armor, and leaving men and beasts scattered throughout the pass.

He was too late. Whatever wickedness the Chancellor schemed was already well in motion. And if the invasion had already started, he could only guess what was happening with Zelda.

Resigning himself, he drew his sword and advanced on the battlefield. Even if he couldn't prevent the fighting, he could at least do his part in stopping it.

Besides, as far as the army concerned, he was a traitor anyway.

* * *

Immediately after Elice's dismissal, Marth found a horse and rode out onto the plains, into the thick of battle. As he passed by each outpost, watching men skewer and disembowel each other in a futile tug-of-war, he realized he had no idea what he was in for. Where once he felt some perverse excitement at the idea of going out into battle, he now only felt sickening dread. Hardin's exercises only simulated ambush and small-scale skirmishes. This was something else entirely.

More haunting was the fact that as he rode by, the Altean soldiers, no matter the extent of their injuries, would make one final effort to push their foes back. Warriors with no energy and little blood to spare tapped into a reserve of unknown power, lunging and hacking at the Hylian infantry, only for the enemy to lay them low in short order. Marth's stomach turned a little worse each time; as he covered another mile, another man with whom he'd spent years growing and training was gruesomely slain.

He wanted nothing more than to leap from his mount and start fighting alongside them, perhaps help them gain some ground. But he knew as well as anyone else where the lynchpin of the battle was. Hardin and his father would be there, at the front lines.

Slowing his charge slightly, he took stock of the situation around him. He hadn't been riding for very long, and with this much fighting so close to the city, the enemy was bound to break through sooner or later. Hyrule had the superior numbers. Their armament was truly a marvel, and their skill in using it was evident. By any reasonable estimation, the battle was all but lost.

 _But I'll be damned if I don't at least try,_ Marth thought, spurring his horse as he continued the race to the mountain pass.

He was just about to find a way through the thickest of the fighting when an arrow suddenly struck his horse's flank, causing the animal to fall forward in shock and toss him from its back. Marth hit the ground and rolled to a stop in the middle of the field, a little shaken but otherwise none the worse for wear. He stood and immediately drew his sword, and started for the pass, intent on seeing his course through.

Not three steps later did a Hylian knight break from the crowd and attack, shouting as he aimed a cut at the prince's neck. Marth pivoted to face his assailant and parried the attack, countering with a thrust to the gap in the warrior's breastplate. The attack found ts mark and Marth felt the blade peel back the underlying chain mail to strike the vulnerable flesh underneath. He pulled back immediately and followed up with a quick slice to the exposed neck of the soldier. Still recoiling from the previous blow, the Hylian warrior could do nothing except step back and bat Marth's attack away as he began his offensive anew.

Marth's body moved of its own accord, all those years practicing under Hardin finally coming into their own as the two exchanged strikes. The Hylian fought vigorously, but his movements were clumsy and predictable; they were the motions of a rank novice. Finally, the Hylian held his sword aloft in readiness for a powerful attack. That was the opening Marth needed. He struck at once, slicing into the Hylian's throat. The warrior grasped at his wound as he slumped ever lower, at last coming to final rest on the ground.

With no time to waste, Marth turned and broke for the mountain pass. Every so often, he would have to duck or deflect another blade, but answered with little more than a single cut to deter them. As he approached the pass, he took note of the mounting losses on both sides. Thousands of Hylians offered themselves to Altean blades, with the latter army steadfastly holding the line as the former charged in. Hyrule seemed an unending stream of steel, and there was only so long that Altea could withstand the flow before its defenses eroded.

That was the objective. The keystone to the entire defensive effort was Cornelius and Hardin. Marth looked frantically about, but saw neither of them. Anxiety started creeping into his belly when he finally spotted a disturbance in the Hylian ranks off to his left. Troops were dropping like flies, and quickly. Marth sprinted towards the skirmish; whoever was causing the enemy this much trouble deserved a helping hand.

Just before he could make it halfway, the crowd dispersed. A young man in a green tunic and hat rushed out of the fray and into the clearing, in Marth's direction. He carried a sword, notched and stained in blood, and a shield emblazoned with three golden triangles – the Hylian emblem. That was all Marth needed to see. He tensed, watching the young man's movements carefully as he prepared his strike.

The boy shifted his eyes back to his army. Just the opening Marth was waiting for. He lunged forward, his blade ringing as it flew toward its target at lightning speed. It was the perfect strike. But even more perfect was the parry. The boy lifted his shield and deflected the attack to Marth's weak side, stepping in the whole way and lashing out with a shield bash.

Marth backpedaled to avoid the attack, swinging outward to try and keep his opponent out of measure. This swing was caught on the boy's sword, and he expertly wound out of the lock. Whoever this youngster was, he was certainly no amateur.

He held his position and lowered himself, then spoke. "What do you think you're doing?!" he shouted over the noise, desperation obvious in his tone.

Marth was unmoved. "Defending my kingdom!"

"So you're from Altea!"

"I'm the Altean prince, you Imperial swine. And I'll see to it you pay just recompense for the blood on your sword."

"You don't understand! I'm on your side!" As he said that, the boy let his guard slack a little, allowing Marth an opening to attack. His opponent evaded and jumped back, losing ground, but positioning himself for battle.

Marth likewise got into position. "I've neither the time nor the patience for your deceit. Prepare yourself!"

* * *

Fatigue pulled at Link's muscles as he and the Altean prince locked blades. It only figured that he would have no friend on the battlefield. But then again, diplomacy was never his strong suit. But of all the fighters he could have potentially come across, he was unlucky in the extreme to have run into the prince; he was unbelievably skilled, personally and professionally trained. Nothing like the group training sessions he had in the army.

But for all the strength the prince had in the rote, he had already shown his entire bag of tricks. Link still had room to improvise.

Out of the bind, he deftly jumped back, then forward again, letting his weight and the force of gravity add to the power of his attack. But where he was strong, the prince was fast, and quickly dodged and whirled forward to counter. Link barely got his shield up in time to catch it.

Thinking quickly, he kicked out, scoring a hit on the prince's abdomen. As he recoiled, Link rushed forward and swung out hard, aiming for the prince's weapon. He couldn't afford any more close calls, but killing the prince would only bolster the Hylian offensive, and any hope Zelda might have had of regaining control would be forever lost.

The prince ducked out of Link's succession of blows, answering with a few of his own. In the exchange, the tip of the Altean's sword grazed into his chin, while his own weapon glanced his opponent's forearm.

The two stood at odds for a moment. Neither of the blows were serious, but it was clear the young prince was done taking chances. Link settled in for the long haul.

From behind, a man's voice sounded. "There he is!" it said. "Kill the traitor!"

And thus did opportunity knock.

Link stood still and listened. The approach of heavy footsteps in armor alerted him to the knight's presence. He pivoted and struck out with his pommel, catching the knight off-balance. A hard thrust into the gap in the chest plate ended the soldier's campaign then and there.

But Hylian knights never acted alone. Two more appeared from the thick of the fighting, meaning to catch the two combatants in a pincer. One engaged the Altean prince while Link took the other. The soldier struck out with his spear, and Link deflected the attack with his sword. He stepped in and delivered a crushing blow with his shield, caving the man's helmet and perhaps the skull underneath. Link swiftly ended the poor warrior's suffering with a stroke that took his head from his body.

In the follow-through, Link spun to see the prince finish off his own assailant.

They met eye-to-eye again, and for once, the prince's guard seemed to relax.

"See?" Link said. "I'm on your side."

The prince didn't move against him, but didn't take his eyes off him for a moment. "If you truly are on my side, you'll help me reach the pass. My father is there, as well as our top general. Strong though they may be, they cannot hold that point on their own. I could use someone of your skill to rally our defense."

Link nodded in response. Without another word, they hurried through the battlefield.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Convergence at last! Partial convergence, anyway. Definitely more to come on this, but we've got lots of time to get everyone together._

 _Like I said, I humbly apologize for taking so long to release this chapter, but I've recently come into some employment. As glad as I am to be making a bit of money, scheduling things around a job is difficult. But I will never, ever give up on writing this, even though I may have to take a break from time to time._

 _As far as the story itself is concerned, I received an anonymous guest review (thanks so much, whoever you are!) asking if there were going to be any other Nintendo characters besides those featured in Fire Emblem and The Legend of Zelda. The answer, of course, is yes. This is a Smash Bros. story, after all. But like I said, we've got time._


	7. Ch 7: Coyote

_I see I've picked up a few new followers in my absence. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, and I hope you're enjoying yourselves with what I have so far. Also thanks to darkpaladin89 and Vanillite the Dragonslayer for their reviews. Now on with the show._

* * *

Marth made for the mountain pass as quickly as the tumult of the battlefield allowed, stopping only to settle immediate matters of life and death. The enemy sprung at random from the blurred ranks of armor, all wanting to be the man to take the head of the prince. He allowed himself a moment to cast his eyes back at the strange young man behind him, and dared another moment to be grateful that he was there; even if he didn't completely trust the boy, he felt better to have someone behind him.

He centered himself again, remembering Hardin's lessons on focus. Almost beyond his notice, the surging pandemonium lowered to a faint rumble. The clearest thing in his mind was his objective – by now, the outpost was well within sight, and Hardin and Cornelius wouldn't be far off.

As the two of them neared the camp, Marth noted a slight, but noticeable thinning of the Hylian ranks. The golden banners became more sparse, as if Hyrule was abandoning the contest at the pass.

 _Or perhaps they're losing,_ Marth thought. The idea was comforting, but he knew better than most the folly of placing all of one's hopes on a single optimistic thought. His first priority was stemming the tide. And to do that, he needed to find the king. He cast his focus to the outpost, and broke into a full sprint. Just a few more meters and...

"Look out!"

At the sound of the youth's warning, Marth took a step back, just out of the reach of a Hylian cavalryman at full gallop. He suddenly rediscovered the surrounding chaos, and the shock of it threw him off balance. Confused and disoriented, he missed a step and did a half-skip to catch himself again. The Hylian rider approached once again and swung, with the verdant youth deflecting the attack off his shield. The speed of the horse added to the force of the attack, breaking the young man's guard.

The rider reared his steed and readied another blow. Marth locked blades with the cavalryman, but was driven down by the strength of the swing. The horse kicked out and glanced against his breastplate, forcing him further back.

The horse spun and readied another kick while its rider prepared to strike again when an arrow struck the beast's flank. Shocked from the pain, the orse fell to its side, and the rider was thrown from his mount. He landed hard on his back, but stood shakily. Eager to continue the fight, he went into a high guard, when out of nowhere, a familiar sword impaled the rider through the chest.

The man fell forward, and Hardin materialized from the crowd before retrieving his blade from his victim. "Have I not warned you about your tunnel vision, Highness?" he shouted.

Marth couldn't help but smile as he stood and approached his old friend. "Hardin! I've come to lend my sword!"

A flash of relief, or perhaps amusement, crossed Hardin's face momentarily before settling back to the usual stoicism. "It's good to have you, Marth, but we must discuss this another time. Right now, our priority is to staunch the flow of Hylian soldiers."

Marth cast a glance over to the Hylian youth. "Then allow us to help. That boy is a defector from Hyrule. I don't know if I fully trust him, but perhaps you could better gauge him."

"Let this mission be his trial. I have a plan, but the two of you must follow my instructions to the letter. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely," Marth said.

"Good." Hardin looked over to the youth. "What's your name, boy?"

"Link," he said.

* * *

"Very well. Marth, Link, we make for the pass. We'll choke their reinforcements and drive them back."

And just like that, Link found himself in the army again. It was a little strange seeing a royal serve so readily under his general, but he saw something else in the way they interacted; a familiarity that was deeper than sovereign and servant. These two were true brothers in arms. He was struck by a pang of nostalgia. He had those, too. And so did Uncle.

But Zelda came first.

Hardin led the two of them around the heaviest of the fighting. There was still the odd encounter with a Hylian straggler, but the trip was mostly free of incident. Before long, the three of them reached a hilltop to the west of the pass. From there, Link could see the path through the range clearly, and it wasn't a pretty sight. Armor and weaponry stretched for miles down the pass, all waiting their turn to enter the fray and do some damage.

Marth asked Link's question for him. "How can we staunch the flow when they have numbers like this?"

"Hyrule may have a numerical advantage, but the mountain pass is their only means of ingress," Hardin said. "So, what do we do?"

"Isn't it obvious? We find a way to block it," said the prince.

"With what?" Link asked.

"Simple," Hardin said. "We shut the door on them."

Link took a closer look. After a second, he saw it: an arch that spanned the mouth of the pass, right above the bottleneck. He pointed it out to the two of them.

"Good eye, boy," Hardin said. "Now, how handy are you with a bow?"

"I could hit a target if I needed to," he said.

"It'll have to do." Hardin produced a bow and quiver from his back. "I've never been much of an archer myself."

He handed them off, and Link took them. The bow was simple in its construction, but sturdy and flexible. He tugged the string, finding the draw strength a bit greater than what he was used to. He hadn't fired a bow in ages.

"But how will a bow and arrow help us?" Marth asked.

Hardin reached into the quiver and produced a handful of arrows with small black spheres on the tips. Link detected a faint odor of sulfur. Bomb arrows. Hyrule had started using these recently in the Ordon uprising.

"I took these from a Hylian marksman," Hardin said. "He no longer needs them." He took a few steps forward. "Marth, you'll come with me. We'll catch the incoming forces in a pincer. Between the two of us, we'll be able to hold them off at the bottleneck easily." He turned to Link with a grave look in his eye. "I'll raise a banner near the pass as a signal. Once you see it, you fire those arrows at the arch. The avalanche will cut them off. If you don't see it within ten minutes, bring it all down."

Link nodded his understanding. He nocked an arrow and assumed his position.

"Very well," Hardin said. "The setting sun should afford you some safety, but be quick and decisive with your shots. If an archer spots you, that'll be the end of you." He drew his blade and started for the thick of the battle. "Ready yourself, Highness."

"Of course," Marth said. The prince paused for a moment. "Best of luck, Link."

Link gave him a reassuring smile. "It'll be just like Eldin," he said. Marth smiled back and then hurried to catch up to Hardin.

So began the waiting game. Link lost sight of the prince not long after he descended the hill. The vantage point was good, but his shadow was growing long. Hylian fighters were smart enough to trace one back to a potential adversary; if this were any other battle, he would have found himself trapped in a rain of arrows, or worse, a fusillade of cannon shot. But Altea knew where to strike. The advance was slowed. They could win this.

He waited.

And waited.

And listened.

Distant screaming. Shields crashing together. Horses braying.

The minutes dragged like hours. He'd lost count of them altogether. Should he have seen anything by now? He was getting anxious. All he wanted to do was loose one of those arrows, just to break the tension.

Only after he started further straining his aching ears did he realize he'd been looking in the wrong place. Just where the pass opened up, Hylian soldiers were congregating. Cavalrymen started racing into the fray, only to be turned away by the thicket of blades. Men were falling, then were backpedaling. Those two knew what they were doing.

Off to the right, a bolt of pale blue started rippling in the sky. The banner of Altea had been raised.

Without missing a beat, Link primed the arrow and fired. It sailed out into the distance, but the arch still stood. An explosion lit up the pass, and several soldiers started scrambling from out of it.

Quickly, he nocked another one and took aim. the sizzling fuse putting the burden of time on the already delicate operation. He heard the crackle quicken and lost his nerve, firing again. The arrow just undershot the arch, and the blast rocked a the wall.

Footsteps approached. Link pivoted to meet the sound, his hand going for his sword. He relaxed a bit when he saw the prince going up the hill at full sprint, sword in hand, but tensed when he saw several Hylian knights at his back.

He had seconds. He readied another shot and steadied his aim, eyes fixed on the crest of the arch.

He heard Marth shouting, but paid no heed to the words. He had this one chance. He loosed the arrow.

* * *

Cornelius hadn't seen Hardin in quite some time. A skirmish had separated them some long minutes ago, and he found himself with a small squad of soldiers. Elite though they might have been, they gave him little comfort; he was much too far from the center of the conflict, much too far from the castle, and his every thought went back to Marth and Elice. Even as the rattling swords and booming cannons drew closer to him, he was overcome with concern for his two children.

Something, or perhaps, the lack of something, brought his attention back to the present. All was quiet. He looked around and saw that the battle had moved away from him, as if repelled by some invisible force.

"Sire!" one of the men called out.

Cornelius looked over to respond, but immediately saw what got the squad's attention. A slender figure in a red cloak observed the battlefield as if watching a play. Slowly, he turned his head to meet the king's gaze, a wicked smile painted on his porcelain face.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," he said. "I must apologize. I'd hoped to meet you under more agreeable circumstances, but alas-"

Before he could finish, an explosion sounded in the distance. Off to the far north, the stone arch above the mountain pass begun to collapse. Cornelius couldn't tell what set off the rockfall or how many soldiers were crushed in their hurry to flee, but by the end of it, the pass was sealed, the stones reaching higher than any man was tall. No more Hylian reinforcements would be coming from there.

The man scowled for a moment, but then smiled again. "On any other day, I'd be upset. But this battle was just a formality anyway. Whether Altea stands or falls today is of little consequence to us."

"Identify yourself," Cornelius commanded.

"Oh, but of course." He pitched forward in a theatrical bow. "My name is Ghirahim. _Lord_ Ghirahim to be precise, but there's no need for titles here. After all, we're only going to know each other these few short minutes."

"Show some respect!" shouted one of the soldiers. "You stand before the king of Altea!"

"Believe me, I'm very well aware," Ghirahim chirped. "I'll be blunt, Your Majesty. Despite my lofty station, I am, for all intents and purposes, a Hylian assassin, charged with the gruesome task of taking your life as well as the lives of your progeny."

"My children?" Cornelius' face flushed with rage. "If you so much as laid a hand on either of them, I'll have your head for a trophy!"

"Do mind your temperament, sire. Such behavior is so unbecoming of a man who calls himself king."

"Enough of this," Cornelius said. He unsheathed his sword, the blade resonating with power. "You've presented yourself an enemy of the sacred kingdom of Altea, and so shall receive no quarter."

Ghirahim looked away and chuckled. "This is even better than I expected." He raised an arm and held it there, pointing it menacingly toward the retinue. "What will it be? All of you at once or will there be a queue of bodies?"

A sudden chill overcame the king, and his hand tightened on the hilt of the sword. One of Cornelius' men lost his patience and charged, spear aloft, and made ready to attack. In the next moment, he was flat on the ground, both of his arms separated from his trembling body.

Ghirahim stood over him, now holding a black saber dripping with the blood of the soldier. Cornelius didn't even see him move. "One at a time it is," he said. He licked his lips with a long, ophidian tongue.

He advanced, and each of Cornelius' guards stepped forward to block him. With every movement the made, Ghirahim chose just the right counter, parrying and evading their spears, striking decisively and with unerring accuracy, dispatching each of them in bloody turn. One by one, the bodies mounted, and Cornelius braced for attack.

Soon, there were none, and Ghirahim snapped his eyes to the king. Instinctively, Cornelius raised his holy blade in defense. With a deafening impact, their swords met. Cornelius pushed against his foe, tried to wind around the lock, but all his efforts availed him nothing.

"That's an interesting sword you're carrying," Ghirahim said. "An heirloom, perhaps?You should know better than to bring an antique décor piece to a duel." With a flick of his wrist, Ghirahim launched the blade up and away. Cornelius watched it tumble through the air, the metal glinting brilliantly as it caught the light of the setting sun.

Ghirahim raised his sword in preparation for the final blow. "If it's any consolation, Your Majesty," he said, "I found you first."

Cornelius said nothing, standing stoically face-to-face with his adversary as he brought his weapon down.

* * *

 _Author's note: All right, after this, NO MORE MONTH-LONG UPDATE DROUGHTS. Quote me on that. Hold me to it. Beat me with a stick if I ever make you go through that again. Everyone reading this has my permission._

 _At any rate, the battle's pretty much over. Writing all this action is a demanding job, which is half the reason this is coming so late. The other half is that I can't hold myself to a schedule. That's about to change, though._

 _I wanted to do something a little different, so I tried writing from Cornelius' standpoint as a little experiment, and I thought it was a good idea to have his perspective briefly examined in the last portion of this chapter. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll have hat opportunity ever again. Oh well. Even an original flavor has to give some leeway to canon, and it's just not a Final Fantasy story without a character being orphaned._


	8. Ch 8: Forest of Doubt

_Many thanks to Shinobi of the Hidden Leaf for the follow and review, and as usual, thanks to darkpaladin89 for the continued feedback. Now on with the show._

* * *

 _Zelda's favorite little friend was here to play. The poor boy from the fields. He was the only commoner that was given permission to come and go as he pleased, naturally on her own urging to Father. She recognized him from the fete Father put on, in celebration of somebody's birthday. Was it hers? She didn't remember._

 _They were in the courtyard, enjoying the warm summer. He was in the middle of swinging upside-down from a tree branch when he insisted she join him. She felt silly, of course, but she gave it her best shot, making it about half as far before losing her balance and dangling from her hands. In a few seconds, her hands grip gave out and she landed on her backside in the grass below. They both laughed. She liked feeling silly._

 _Later, one of the attendants would tell her, a ten-year-old girl, to stop acting childish._

 _This poor boy hadn't the means for even the most meager amenities, much less formal schooling. His uncle was his only family, at least that he knew of, and was lucky to have a roof over his head, leaky and rotten though it was. But for all of his misfortune, he was never envious, and was genuinely grateful to his uncle for providing for him as best he could. Of course, he said, the castle was nice, too, but he never got lost in his own house._

 _Now they were out near a stream in the garden. Here, they just liked to speak. Rather, she liked to speak; the boy preferred to listen. She let herself go on during these conversations, speaking at length about things she planned to teach him, watching their reflections in the water break as a dozen little fish jumped through them. He spoke one or two words at a time, but even if they were never formal, they were always genuine. He didn't care that she was the princess. All she was to him was his friend._

 _Later, one of the servants would apologize incessantly for spilling water on her dress. He'd call her "Highness."_

 _The poor boy couldn't even afford shoes, and so plodded through the castle grounds barefoot without so much as a complaint. Zelda might never have even noticed if the cleaning staff hadn't complained so vehemently. So she did the same, leaving her boots inside when she led him through the grounds. After all, why did he have to suffer the indignity alone? Not that he thought anything of it at all; it was just something that farmers and farmers' children did._

 _Later, one of the guards would warn her about stepping in mud or on something sharp, and send her off to the bath._

 _One day, the boy stopped coming. She missed him, of course, but at least the servants weren't pestering her. Then the letters came in – funny little things scrawled madly all over a torn page. He was learning to read and write, he said, just so he could speak to her. She wrote back, not knowing exactly what to say, but at least letting him know the finer points of penmanship._

 _That night, Father would tell her that her favorite friend's uncle was a soldier now._

 _She cried that night. Shed heard about what happened to boys in the army._

* * *

It was cold when Zelda woke up. She shivered and her eyes opened, slowly. The stone ceiling came plainly into focus, a single shaft of sunlight illuminating the otherwise dark environment. She flitted her eyes about for a few seconds, and eventually determined her situation to be a cave. Beneath her was a soft collection of sheets, she supposed, which formed something not unlike a bed. It was nice enough; better than stone, at the very least.

She felt faint, extremely ill, and profoundly lost, but at least she wasn't dead. She recalled Zant, and worse, his blade carving deep through her back. A seething anger surfaced at the memory. She focused on that, hoping it would distract her enough to at least let her sit up without incident.

It didn't. The very second she lifted herself from her sheet bundle, her head swam and she doubled over the side, choking painfully as her stomach struggled to push something out of her. Nothing came up, but the ordeal still left a sour taste in her mouth. She stayed bent over the side of the bundle waiting for the dizziness to pass, when she noticed the tug of thick gauze at her back. Looking down, she saw a layer of bandages wrapped expertly under her dress. She dared to roll over to the other side, finding the movement completely effortless; the bandages might as well have not even been there.

 _At least whoever lives here is no barbarian,_ she thought.

She looked out onto the cave. It was sparsely furnished; a smoldering fire pit and soup pot were set up in the middle and a low table sat not far from it. On the table was a folded scrap of paper under a conical weight.

At last, she stood, despite the spots of color swirling in her vision, and made her way to the table. She took short steps so as to not hinder her tenuous balance, and reached the table after too long a time. She plucked the paper from under its weight and unfolded it. Inside was written, "Proceed Northward to Altea. Find your knight. You and he, seek refuge in the enchanted kingdom."

Zelda read the note twice more. She was sure Altea was to the Southeast.

All at once, she realized. She was brought here by someone. Her mysterious benefactor. _Falling into someone's arms._

Her head finally clear, she hurried to the entrance and stepped outside, only to be greeted coldly by a vast expanse of forest. Trees cast long shadows against the setting sun, and the screeching of beasts coming out of their dens for a nocturnal hunt made the cave look inviting by comparison.

 _Focus._ Zelda lifted her head. Altea was to the north, and hopefully Link would be there too. Using the sun to orient herself, she set out into the thicket.

* * *

To Zelda's own credit, it took her well over two hours to lose her way. After the sun vanished behind the tree line, the beaten path completely disappeared, and in her determination to stay her course, she wandered off of it and into a strange back wood thick with bramble and swarming with insects. Every few feet, she would utter a different prayer to Nayru, entreating Her for protection and guidance.

Then she tripped over an exposed root, well concealed in the darkness of the wood. She stumbled forward and landed on her hands and knees, unhurt but incensed. She stayed there, gripping at the dirt for quite some time, trying her best not to scream her frustration to the heavens.

 _How could I have been so careless?_

All at once, reality set upon her like the weight of a tidal wave. She was hopelessly lost in an inhospitable wood, miles from home, with not a weapon or a rupee to her name, and with no actual plan to get into or out of Altea. Especially not with Cole's thrice-damned war games almost assuredly moving forward. How could she have been so careless? Her eyes shut tight, her ears burned, and her chest heaved – she just wanted it all to stop.

For a brief second, it seemed like it would. The freezing air gnawed at her skin. Nothing moved but the wind. All time had ground to a halt.

That brief second was all she needed. Gathering her frustration into the palm of her hand, she struck the ground hard and unleashed it as a ripple of power. It traveled far into the tenebrous wood before dispersing, and she felt the energy return to the heavens.

Then, emptiness. Not calm, exactly, but being numb was better than feeling helpless.

As she stood, a rustling from behind stole her attention, followed by a strange, distant animal noise. She tensed and focused, trying to get a look at what was coming to her. The rustling became a rumbling, and grew closer as Zelda conjured a barrier.

All of a sudden, a large, metallic black mass burst through the brush and crashed against the barrier with the force of cannon shot, sending a jolt of pain up her arm. The mass reared back and revealed a reptilian behemoth underneath.

 _A helmasaur._ Zelda scoffed and cursed her misfortune; of course this night would end with her in mortal danger.

She regained her footing and started to move around it, hoping to get at the creature's exposed back end, but it quickly spun and stamped toward her, shaking the ground under its bulk and forcing Zelda to take leaping steps back. Reflexively, she sent a wave of power at the beast, which its armor barely repelled. It peered at her through the metal, enraged.

Now tired of the game, the helmasaur broke into a full charge. Zelda dove to one side, landing gracelessly in the dirt, but grateful to be in one piece. Looking up, she saw the beast struggle to halt its wild rush. Thinking fast, she rose and fired another shockwave, striking it in its unguarded flank. The creature squealed and spun again, bracing against any further attack.

Zelda took that opportunity to start looking for an exit. Her frenzied spellcasting on top of the day's exertions left her exhausted, and she knew she wouldn't last on her own against a monster in peak condition.

The helmasaur's foreleg dug into the ground. It was going to charge again. Zelda tried to summon the energy for another barrier, but her power was waning rapidly. She readied herself instead to run.

Before the helmasaur could move, a streak of bright blue struck it in its broadside and set it rolling on the forest floor. Zelda jumped back in astonishment and found herself tripping and falling again. In that time, the helmasaur had gotten back on its feet, and searched out its assailant.

From behind her, Zelda heard a slow, light set of footsteps approach. She turned and saw a strange creature, as much man as beast, walking upright and with distinctly human intent toward the fuming helmasaur. Each of its arms was alight with ethereal azure flame, and the being's frame was covered in what seemed like light fur, colored the same blue as the fire it held in its hands.

The helmasaur recognized its new opponent and charged at full pelt. In response, the beastman raised its arms and fired another cerulean blast which crumpled the helmasaur's armor. In the instant to follow, the beastman was upon the stunned animal and delivered a powerful kick to its head. The helmasaur's damaged armor carried the brunt of the force to its reptilian brain, and the creature died on the spot, falling with a resounding boom.

The beastman turned and focused its amber eyes on Zelda. It took her a moment to recover from the amazement of the battle, but she soon rose to her feet and brushed the earth from her dress in an attempt to look dignified.

"You have my thanks," she said, not knowing if the beastman would even recognize her speech.

A voice sounded clearly from within her head. _People shouldn't be wandering the woods at night,_ it said, a distinctly masculine rasp – commanding yet subtle.

Zelda needed another moment. This night was full of surprises.

 _Take your time,_ the voice said again.

After the second time, she realized immediately. "Telepathy?" she said. "But I thought only Hylian sages with decades of practice could unlock that blessing."

 _I was born with this power,_ said the beastman. _You're lucky I got here when I did. If I was a moment later, you would have been killed._

At that moment, Zelda recalled her battle at the castle, the figure which drove Zant to retreat. "At Hyrule Castle," she said, "I was rescued by someone who bore a strong resemblance to you. Would you have been the one to fight off that assassin?"

The beastman shook his head. _I didn't know you were here until now. I felt a foreign energy and traced it here. To you._

"Foreign? Are you unfamiliar with magic?"

 _Magic?_ After a brief pause, his eyes glowed a strange blue that Zelda could see even as he closed them. He remained like this for another few seconds before opening them again. _That is interesting._

Zelda tried to riddle out a cohesive response, but found herself just short of the right words. Nothing about the...individual before her made sense; had she not woken up mere hours ago, she would have thought all of this a dream.

 _I imagine you want my help,_ he said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, I do. I cannot impress upon you just how severe my situation is, but I assure you, my mission is of the utmost–"

 _I can tell a novice adventurer a mile away. And nobles, even farther._

She thought she shouldn't be as offended as she was. Nevertheless, she kept her voice steady and her bearing even. "I am Queen Zelda Andoria Hyrule, thirtieth sovereign of the sacred Hylian dynasty. I must find an associate of mine in Altea, and would be in your debt if you could serve as a temporary escort."

 _Is that so?_ The beastman stepped closer and stared sharply into her eyes, not threatening, but questioning. _We're a long ways off from Hyrule, Queen Zelda. What mission of yours could be so important that you would trust your life to a complete stranger?_

"What option do I have, other than to take my chances against the next helmasaur?"

 _There are worse things in these woods than helmasaurs._

"Well then, since you've already identified me as a 'novice,' are you not compelled to lend an expert hand?"

 _Don't get me wrong. I've already decided I'm going to help you._

Zelda was initially surprised, but felt a weight fly off her back at that moment. "Again, you have my deepest gratitude. Know that you'll be rewarded handsomely when I return to my throne at last."

Something like a smirk crossed the beastman's face. _I'm not a mercenary. I'm doing this because I sense the purity of your intent._

Zelda smiled and bowed her head. "Then let us be off. But first, may I inquire as to the identity of my benefactor?"

 _My species is known to mankind as Lucario,_ he said, imitating a bow. _That might do for a name, but you may call me whatever you wish._

As the two of them walked, Zelda took a moment to thank the Goddesses for this magnificent stroke of luck. Even if she wasn't reunited with her rescuer from the castle, at the very least, she wasn't wandering blindly through the forest alone.

With the miles stretching out before them, she gave herself time to consider.

What sort of name was Lucario?

* * *

 _Author's Note: Hey look, another opening flashback. This time as a pseudo dream sequence.  
I thought that after being away from Zelda for two chapters, and with the action in Altea winding down, it was time to see what our little Queen was up those wondering about the one surname, I took it from a character in Final Fantasy Type-0, that being Queen Andoria of Concordia (Ooh, there's a deep track in the series. Am I a fan yet?). In The Wind Waker (spoilers), the King of Hyrule gives his name as "Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule," which leads me to believe that "Hyrule" is a dynastic name, similar to the name "Caelum" in FFXV._

 _But enough with the behind-the-scenes etymological gubbins. Lucario has joined the party! Yes, our first representative outside The Legend of Zelda or Fire Emblem. His presence pretty much confirms the existence of Pokémon in this crazy muddled universe of ours. His speech pattern is deliberately all over the place; he learned human speech through rough memorization based on contact with all sorts of dialects. I gave him the telepathic powers we saw in The Mystery of Mew if only because having two main characters with tight lips would get kind of old after a while._

 _But as far as actual character is concerned, I sort of see him as a little bit of Red XIII from VII and Amarant from IX; cool as an autumn breeze, proud warrior guy, strong sense of justice, that kind of thing. I hope you enjoy following him. His arc gets crazy._


	9. Ch 9: The Demon's Black Blade

_To darkpaladin89, Shroom of Doom, Ace Axolotl, and all my other friends and reviewers, thanks so much for your support. Your kind words keep my hands on the keyboard. Now on with the show._

* * *

At the close of battle, apprehension gripped at Marth's chest. The Hylian troops were in disarray, Link and Hardin were safely by his side, yet there was a strange, lingering sensation of anxiety – the kind of corrosive wrongness which was only borne of some fatal epiphany. But as deeply as he thought, he couldn't call to mind any such thing to mind.

"It would seem we've won the day, Highness," Hardin said at last.

Marth looked around briefly. There were comparatively few Hylian soldiers left standing, and of those, fewer still were in any shape to battle, though not for want of trying; every survivor under Hyrule's golden banner grasped weakly at his sword, even as they were chained and led to camps. "So it would," Marth said. "There may be something to Hylian devotion."

"Where you see devotion, Marth, I see desperation."

"He's right," Link said. "These guys are acting like they're still fighting for their lives."

"It is as he says," Hardin continued. "It's as if some unseen force impels them to continue a fight they've no hope of winning. And yet..." He trailed off and examined the ranks.

Marth saw as soon as Hardin did. There was a terrible indecisiveness about the Altean army. They kept their distance from captured soldiers, shied away from corpses, and spread themselves out among the field, too thin for the good of any organized defense. This was the prelude to panic. Every man for himself.

"What madness is this?" Marth wondered aloud.

"We were away from the battle for too long," Hardin replied. "Highness, I insist we retreat to the castle."

"The castle? But what of my father?"

"Think, Marth. Hyrule had a definitive advantage in all respects. Equipment, troop strength, training, positioning, all these things in their favor, and yet here we are, at a stalemate. Does nothing strike you amiss?"

Marth looked over at Link. The young man's face was twisted in vexation, and his hands were constantly shifting over his shoulder, to his sword and shield, stopping just short of drawing them.

Link took a breath and shook his head. "He's right," he said. "If the soldiers are here to keep your army busy, then we might already be–"

A distant rumble silenced him. Marth turned to face the distant castle, and his stomach turned. A pall of smoke rose from the outer walls, and the telltale flashes of gunpowder from the fields revealed rows of cannons.

"...Too late," Link finished.

Seconds crept interminably as he watched in growing dismay. The ceaseless fusillade of cannon fire pounded against Marth's ears, inside his skull like a heavy thunderstorm. _Elice..._ His legs weakened and his eyes burned. He'd left her behind to face the siege.

 _How could I be so careless?_

He stood in silence, looking helplessly on as his strength left him. Images of his sister flashed unbidden into his spinning brain, of her gallantly defending the throne against a marching horde.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Link turned him toward himself and Hardin. "We have to save whoever's still in that castle," he said.

"Are you mad? If we don't disable the cannons, there won't be anyone left in the castle to save!"

"The cannons are a distraction. They're trying to draw away your main force while the rest of the soldiers move to the castle."

The shrewdness of Hylian tactics was becoming infuriating. "How much time do we have?"

"An hour, maybe."

"That isn't much time."

"The horses are already sent for, Highness," Hardin said. "Once we secure Lady Elice, we'll search out the king."

* * *

Link had to admit, Altea knew their stuff about horses. Hardin selected the fastest and strongest they had – his own gray stallion moved through the capital like a bolt from a crossbow, undaunted by the stench of smoke and distant explosions. They did much better than their riders at blocking out the ambient horror. Every so often, they would come across a brawl or an arrest that Link hated that he had to ignore; to see such wrongdoing committed by his own country was unthinkable.

What's more, he couldn't help a feeling of suspicion at the ease of their entry; the city gates had only a few guards posted nearby, and between the three of them, they weren't much of an issue. After getting in, though they took little care to avoid any encounters, it seemed they didn't need to; there were so few Hylian soldiers out on the street and those that were there either didn't notice or didn't bother to pursue.

Link braced himself for the worst. It was only this easy when something terrible was about to happen.

The three of them took solace in the city's apparent desertion. They came across a few civilians here and there – some living, some dead, some fleeing, others fighting – all of it made Link want to dismount and march back to face the Hylian army all over again. He looked over to the prince, and saw in his tortured, harrowed face that same desire to leap from his mount and fight, but not out of some vindictive fury. Link saw compassion in his eyes, a sympathy that was reserved for family.

Following closely behind Marth, it took little time to reach the castle. The courtyard entryway, once probably a gorgeous sight to behold, was now a thing of nightmares. Dismembered corpses of the castle's defenders were strewn about the grounds. The scenery was ravaged as if by siege artillery, though there was no cannon to be found. Pillars and planters were sliced cleanly in two. No sword Link was familiar with cold have done that kind of damage.

Amidst the bodies stood a man in a red cloak, his back to them as he contemplated the large double doors that would lead into the castle. "An entrance sealed by magic," he muttered. "What a bother. Leave it to the Chancellor to complicate such a simple matter as regicide."

Slowly, the man turned to face them, and without warning, the horses screamed and reared back. Link was thrown from the back of his, and only just had time to right himself, tucking and rolling before he could crack his skull against the marble. By the time he was standing again, Marth and Hardin were just getting up themselves. He turned back just in time to see the panicked animals disappear into the city.

"More guests, it seems," the man said. He examine the three of them closely, but his eyes lingered on Marth. "Oh, don't tell me. You must be the young Prince, no?"

Marth practically exploded in response. "You're the one responsible for all this? All these men slaughtered? My country and city ransacked?"

"I take it that's a yes! Oh, how splendid! And here I thought a silly thing like a locked door would impede my mission."

Link stood and readied his weapon. "What kind of monster are you?" he said.

The man chortled. "Ah, forgive me. I've not had much time to practice the social graces. My name is Ghirahim. _Lord_ Ghirahim to be precise, but I don't wish to stress the formalities seeing as you're all about to die regardless."

"The only one about to die here is you," Marth said, drawing his sword.

Ghirahim's smile only widened. "Isn't that delightful? You've inherited your father's fighting spirit."

A look of shock briefly shook Marth's bearing. "My father?"

"By now you've probably already figured it out, but this battle we've raged these past hours? It was simply a show. Cole felt that the death of Altea's royal family deserved some sort of grand event to mark the occasion, and what better for a royal send-off than the annihilation of an entire country? Leave it to Agahnim and the little Chancellor to weave such a spectacle from smoke, mirrors, and politics!"

Link watched the prince's movements. Every twitch and tightening of his muscles, his hand reddening from the grip on his sword. He expected Marth to lose his head seconds ago, but he stood his ground, enduring Ghirahim's torment.

Ghirahim's arms slacked, and he pondered the group again. "Well, as much as I enjoy this discussion of ours, I'm afraid I have a job to do, and am running short on time to do it." He snapped his fingers and a black saber appeared from thin air into Ghirahim's waiting hand. "En garde, Your Highness."

Seizing the moment, Link lunged ahead of the prince and struck, but as he made the cut, Ghirahim vanished. He looked about the courtyard, but saw no sign of him.

Hardin's voice cut through the chill in the air. "Marth! Above!"

Link cast his eyes upward and saw Ghirahim descend, bringing his full weight to bear on Marth, who only just stepped out of measure in time. Marth wasted no time in counterattacking, but his swipes and cuts were brushed aside by Ghirahim's systematic movements. Left alone, he would stand no chance. Link cursed his luck once again as he leaped in, hoping to land a hit on Ghirahim's unprotected back, but his target pivoted to face him and caught the blade between his fingers. Link struggled to free his weapon from the man's grip, to no avail.

"Not that I don't enjoy the occasional melee," Ghirahim chirped, "But I was hoping for a duel with our gallant prince. Be a good little urchin and find a gutter to play in."

He pulled Link forward and struck directly to his belly, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying, then rolling back into the courtyard.

The next few seconds were a blur, but through the ringing in his ears and the stars in his eyes, he was vaguely aware of the fight taking place. From the sound of it, Marth was doing his best, but it was only a matter of time. As he pondered this, he was dragged to his feet by Hardin, the force of the movement shaking him back to his senses.

"Can you stand?" Hardin said.

Link could stand just fine. "Aren't you going to do anything?" he asked.

"I am. Ghirahim is too powerful to tackle head-on. We need to distract him if we're to gain the upper hand."

Link had an idea. He pulled the last bomb out of his pouch. "Can you work around this?"

* * *

Marth let his body move of its own accord, as he knew he couldn't trust his mind to make the right decision. His head was alight with all the ways he wanted to make Ghirahim suffer for what he did to Altea. For what he did to his family. Every strike, every cut and thrust, each step and turn was fueled by impassioned hatred for the villain standing opposite him. Murderers, especially kingslayers, deserved no mercy, and he intended to give him none.

He was doing his best to keep his wits about him, but something must have given him away; some errant tic or slight twitch of the hand betrayed is weakness. And every time he succumbed to emotion and struggled for control, Ghirahim only stopped to savor it, deliberately slowing his advances and shortening his retreats to allow Marth the opportunity to find himself again, to come under control so he could enjoy a duel against a lucid opponent.

 _He's toying with me._ Just when he made that connection, Marth realized the gulf between he two of them. Ghirahim's movements were graceful, effortless, and painstakingly focused. Marth had been training since he could hold a sword. He knew when he was outmatched. But an enemy sent specifically to kill, he knew, would not yield. He couldn't concede – all he could do was fight to the last. He was staring into the abyss, and soon, he would fall into it.

But he'd be damned before he rolled over to the man who killed his father. Breaking from the bind, he readied himself for a final blow, one all-or-nothing strike that, for better or worse, would end the duel.

 _Forgive me, Elice._

Time slowed. Marth lowered himself in preparation for the attack. Ghirahim's eyes flashed with a sadistic spark as he went in for the kill. But just as soon as it came, it was gone. Ghirahim turned his head to one side. Out of the corner of his eye, Marth saw a black sphere careening toward the two of them, with a burning fuse set in the top.

Ghirahim looked away for a moment and batted it away with his free hand, and the bomb exploded before it could hit the ground. Thrown off-balance by the blast, the Demon Lord lurched forward.

In that moment, Marth took his chance. He jumped with all his might, striking upward with his blade. He felt the blow connect against Ghirahim's head, grazing just under the eye, and he landed.

Ghirahim jumped back a ways, landing roughly. He glanced reproachfully toward Link and Hardin. "If the gallery can't be expected to observe politely, then they will have no choice but to participate!" He stood slowly, grasping his fresh wound. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. Unfortunately we've both run out of time, Your Highness. I have a prior obligation which I sadly can't avoid. However, I urge you not to mistake this little hiccup for a victory. Next time we meet will be the last." With that, he raised his saber overhead with a flourish, and disappeared.

A hazy second passed, and Marth collapsed to one knee. The adrenaline rush passed, leaving him exhausted, but he was grateful to be alive. He looked over to his compatriots and nodded.

Link walked over and helped him up. "When Hardin told me to aim for you, I thought he was being crazy," he said.

Marth raised an eyebrow. "You were aiming for me?"

"Apologies, Highness," Hardin said. "Circumstances being what they were, I had to rush my instruction."

He waved it off. "It's done. The seal?"

"It holds. The princess is safe."

"Not for long. Ghirahim said we'd both run out of time. And given the loss of our soldiers' morale..."

"Then it's only a matter of time before the castle is overrun."

"We must get Elice out of this castle. If I..." Focus. Being a prince came before all else. "...If we lose her, then this kingdom is finished."

"The catacombs, then?"

"They'll be expecting that."

"Better that than chance an encounter in the open."

Dammit, he was right. Better they had some control over the situation. "Very well, then. Open the door, and seal it immediately once we're inside."

"Consider it done, Highness." Hardin started toward the door, but paused. He looked to Marth again, somberly. "I'm deeply sorry about what's happened to your father. If we hadn't been separated..."

Marth shook his head. "He did his part in protecting the kingdom. We must honor his memory, not mourn his passing."

Hardin said nothing, but turned away and raised a hand to the door.

For an instant, Marth suddenly found himself missing his father.

* * *

 _Author's note: Let the record show that even if we have entered into a new month, a month has not elapsed. I am thus far keeping my promise._

 _I hope I did Ghirahim some justice here. I really enjoyed him in Skyward Sword; he had so much verve, you know? In a way, he reminded me of Seymour from FFX, or maybe Kuja from IX. I sort of took that and ran with it, while adding a bit of that imperiousness we saw in Sephiroth from VII. Why Sephiroth, you ask? Simply put, given the nature of Ghirahim's existence in Zelda canon (no spoilers), it would only make sense that he would be a master swordsman, as was Sephiroth's claim to fame._

 _More than that, I'm hoping I won't upset people with how I write the hero characters. Marth's a young lad here, very serious about his duty to the country, but for all his convictions, he still loves his family. Introducing a bit of vulnerability seemed like the next logical step, and with that comes an element of fallibility. Like I said in earlier chapters, he needs to make his own mistakes. I hope you understand._


	10. Ch 10: Forlorn Reunion

_As usual, all my thanks to darkpaladin89 and Shroom of Doom for their support. Now, on with the show._

* * *

The stark desolation of the castle chilled Marth to his soul. This place was always awash with activity, from guards and servants, to cooks and maids. Now the only things inhabiting them were himself, Link, and Hardin, the three of them rushing through the halls toward the throne room. The hurry might have exacerbated the ache in Marth's arm left from his duel with Ghirahim had he been paying any mind to it; all that occupied his thoughts was the safety of his sister.

The lamps were extinguished, leaving the halls dark and treacherous. The air was still but for the echoes of the retinue's footfalls. It was a quiet that promised danger, warning that at all times, at any moment, the stillness would be shattered and disaster would again rear its head.

Through it all, and especially so near Hardin, he remembered his focus. Eyes forward, mind clear, sword in hand. The worst thing he could do under these circumstances was lower his guard. He turned the last corner sharply, leading with his blade, just in case.

As fortune would have it, there was nothing to find. As they neared the throne room, Marth noted a distinct lack of any sign of major disturbance. Aside from some dust or brazier ash displaced by errant cannon shot, there was no appreciable damage to their surroundings. He allowed himself a momentary glimmer of hope.

The door gave a loud groan as Marth opened it, and before he could even realize the room was lit, he spotted Elice standing before the throne, unhurt, still clutching her staff. She looked up to the three, startled yet relieved.

The miraculous sight lost Marth his focus. His sister was safe, praise be to the gods. His spirit soaring, he dropped his weapon carelessly to the ground as he ran to her, and she to him. In moments, they wrapped themselves in each others arms.

After a long few seconds, she finally said, "I'm so glad you're safe."

"As am I," he said, breaking the embrace. "We arrived just in time."

Elice sighed and looked to the others. "Thank you, Hardin, for watching over my brother."

"I am ever at your service," Hardin said.

"Who is this other you've brought with you?"

"That is Link," Marth said, "Formerly a soldier of Hyrule. I doubt I would have survived the journey back to you without his aid."

"Then I have much to be thankful for." Elice gave him a small bow. "We are in your debt, Sir Link."

"Not yet," Hardin said. "The city is compromised, and in a few hours, so too will be this castle. We need to get you and your brother out of harm's way before the Hylians rally."

"How goes the battle?"

"All but lost, milady."

"And our father?"

The silence returned, almost drowning out the distant cannon fire. Marth's throat tightened and he turned away. He didn't want to see the look Elice had on her face.

"I see," she said, her voice steady but sincere. "Then you were right, weren't you, Marth?"

"Elice..."

"There will be time for shedding tears later. Father would want for us to do our duty before we take time to mourn."

"Quite right," Hardin said. "In the meantime, we must see you two out of the castle. We'll seek sanctuary once we're clear of the border."

"These catacombs," Link said, "Are they safe?"

"Safe enough," Marth said. "They have seen their share of neglect, but the passage should be clear of anything dangerous."

"Good to hear," Link said. "Because once we're out, all hell's going to break loose."

* * *

Link stood watch as Marth and Hardin got to work opening the secret passages. He kept a sharp eye on Elice, all the while feeling sorry for her. Her unflappable disposition and her righteous sense of duty reminded him too much of Zelda. And the way she and her brother cared so openly for each other made him nostalgic. He pined for the days of his early childhood, sneaking through the castle windows to see his best and most unlikely friend, bearing gifts of potatoes fresh from the harvest. Nineteen years was too young to feel so old.

The wall slid open. Hardin went in first, Link last. Marth said something he didn't hear.

He couldn't imagine what she was going through. Despite the airs she put on, Link knew Zelda to be nothing like Elice. Where Elice was judicious in her actions, Zelda was far more impulsive. A bit like himself, he supposed. If she hadn't asked, he wouldn't have even considered attending this errand. He'd had so many brushes with death today alone, but it was worth it to know she would be safe at the end of it. She was the only family he had after Uncle died, and he would do anything to hold onto that.

He only noticed they were in the catacombs when he stumbled over a loose stone. None of the others seemed to notice. Now back to the present, Link took in his surroundings.

Moaning wind. A faint dripping of water from just up ahead. Skittering feet accompanied by intermittent squeaks. Dammit, but he hated rats.

The place was dim, lit only by a few hanging lamps. Marth wasn't kidding when he said the place was neglected; many of the wooden beams that held the stone ceiling were showing early signs of rot, and the humidity in the place didn't help. He wiped the sweat from his brow and concentrated on the sounds.

"We must be close to the exit by now," he heard Marth say.

"It'll be a while longer, Highness," Hardin said. "Does milady need to rest?"

"I'm fine, Hardin," Elice muttered. "Thank you."

"Very well. Up ahead is the old storehouse. We may find something there worth taking."

Good thing somebody knew the place. They walked a few minutes more and came into a chamber filled with trunks and chests. Most of the store had been picked clean, but a few of the boxes had been left sealed.

Link went over to one and after a struggle, popped it open. Inside was a shield, a bit rough-looking, with dents and fractures among the usual battle scars, but still in useable condition. Link snatched it without pause. Ordinarily, he would have been leery of anything known to have laid about in such conditions for so long a time, but he wasn't in a position to be choosy. Besides, he couldn't risk a zealous Altean straggler or a Hylian watchman recognizing the symbol on his old one.

Link hoisted the shield, testing its weight. It felt good, surprisingly enough; hefty and sturdy without being cumbersome. It was a bit larger than what he was used to, but he wasn't about to complain about a little extra protection. All in all, it was a good find.

He looked over to the others. Marth was examining a breastplate closely. Elice flitted through the pages of a half-rotted tome. Hardin stood to one side, hoisting an ornate partisan. Not much of a treasure store, but at the very least, they had newer equipment.

Link stood and the company proceeded. "How much longer?" he asked.

"We will arrive soon," Elice said. "The exit will put us to the south of the city. After that, it's only a matter of slipping by the fighting to seek sanctuary."

Link nodded. During the walk, he noticed something in the princess' bearing that betrayed a certain trepidation. She walked steadily, but slowly, in half-steps that she tried to hide under her robes. She gripped her staff loosely, turning it over in her palm. She was either scared stiff or having second thoughts.

Link noted that Marth kept a hurried pace, eager to lead his family to safety. He was constantly looking ahead, ready to leap at the first thing that would jump from the shadows. Link decided some time ago that he quite liked the young prince; he was an exemplary fighter, courageous, and dedicated to his country and is family. Even if he did tend to act rashly, he never went ahead without a backup plan.

Sounds up ahead. More whistling wind. Groaning wood. Echoes of rocks kicked down the empty hallways.

Further ahead, faint chirping of crickets.

He and Marth picked up the pace. After they rounded the next curve, they saw the exit at the hall's far end. Between themselves and it, was a wrought iron portcullis, with a wheel to one side of the frame.

It was never easy. Link sighed and dropped his head.

* * *

Marth's blood heated almost to a boil as he glared the iron bars down. "This must be some kind of joke," he snapped. "What right-minded architect would build an exit tunnel which prevents a person's exit?"

"This is not some caprice of mad architects, Marth," Elice said. "In the time when this castle was built, the Royal Family thought it necessary for Altea to always have a king or queen seat the throne in times of crisis. They would be the ones to hold that wheel while their citizens and soldiers escaped." She forced a smile. "Honestly, haven't you paid any attention to your lessons?"

"Milady, there is little time," Hardin said. "I estimate the seal to be broken in minutes. And once they find you absent, they will find this place."

"I understand, Hardin." She walked over to the wheel and grasped it firmly.

Marth instinctively launched himself forward and grabbed Elice by the shoulder. She didn't so much as twitch. He went cold at her stiffness, and nearly lost his words. "I almost lost you once," he said. "Neither of us may survive another close call. If these are to be my final hours, I would be at peace knowing that you were safe."

Turning slightly, she placed a hand over her brother's. "Such eloquence is wasted on a warrior prince," she said, and turned back. "You're the best hope we have of ending this farce of a war."

"You mustn't rest your hopes on sentiment! Your life is at stake!"

"Better my life than yours."

"How can you say that? Next in line for the throne and you would throw yourself onto their blades?"

Her voice raised slightly. "I'm doing this for you. You were always a fighter, Marth. Always a hero to someone. Now you have a chance to be a hero to everyone, a symbol for Altea's future!"

"I can't do this without you!"

"You have to!"

Marth stood in confusion as her voice echoed through the catacombs. He let his arm fall limp. Memories of his father flashed in front of him, between his eyes and his sister's back – their final conversation in the throne room.

When the last trace of the echo died, Elice turned and faced Marth, her eyes soft and glistening. "I've given this no small amount of thought. I've been planning for hours, cowering behind stone walls while outside, our subjects were dying in droves. How can I call myself princess when I allowed so many of my people to be killed while I considered how best to escape?" She closed her eyes and stood resolute. "This is my atonement. I shall stay behind and meet whatever fate the heavens have laid out for me, and dream all the while of brighter days for our country."

Marth choked on his voice. A pitiful stammer was the only thing his dry lips could muster.

Elice pulled him into an embrace. "Promise me you'll see these dreams realized."

Not trusting his throat to utter a word, he nodded against her shoulder. He couldn't help but let a few tears fall. _We were so close._

She broke the embrace and placed kiss on his forehead. "I love you, brother."

With that, she turned at once to the wheel and started turning. The portcullis raised slowly, taunting them with more time, creaking obscenely against the solemn silence. Elice struggled against it, but persevered. When it was raised about halfway, she started having difficulty, and strained against it with great effort.

Hardin stepped forward to lend a hand. With the two of them, the wheel turned much easier, and eventually the bars were out of sight above the frame. Marth and Link stepped through it, and waited for Hardin to join them.

Hardin instead took the wheel tightly in his hand and shoved with all his might against the princess, forcing her through the frame where she stumbled to the ground. Marth hadn't finished picking her up yet when Hardin released the wheel and the gate crashed to the floor, separating them.

The three ran forward and Elice grabbed the bars. "Hardin, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Marth has a point, milady," he said. "If his actions today are any indication, he intends to face certain death. And if the Royal Family is obliterated, Altea will be no more. This is the only tactically sound option." He bowed gracefully to the gathering and then turned is back. "War is a job for soldiers. Let us handle it." He started walking down the hallway.

Marth pounded once on the bars. "Hardin! Open this gate immediately! I command you!"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. That is one order I cannot follow. If fate wills it, we shall meet again." And he vanished into the darkness.

Marth took a last look and backed away. The best way to pay Hardin back was to do his duty.

* * *

 _Author's note: I think I really need to liven this tone. Writing this made me sad._ _Oh, well. That's a job for another day._

 _Elice is back! Trying to keep her distinct from Zelda has been a challenge, but I figured a greater level of maturity was warranted from a character like her; she's more cerebral than her Hylian counterpart, and more at ease with the idea of self-sacrifice._

 _But if you're wondering why I haven't looked in on Zelda and Lucario for a while, there are two reasons, both of them having to do with Lucario. First of all, I'm not sure how to convey his dialogue effectively. Italicizing is something done for thoughts and inner monologue but since he isn't vocalizing, quotation marks won't do the job. Ideas? Anyone?  
_ _Secondly, I've been grappling with the idea of giving him a nickname. I don't know if it's something Zelda might do, but it might be something worth considering. I'll turn it over to you readers, then. Do you want to give a nickname to Lucario? Or do I keep it as is? I could go either way so feel free to shout out any ideas, or if you want, I can just not change anything. This isn't really a poll; it's more like I'm fishing for ideas._


	11. Ch 11: Joyous Reunion

_I live! Thanks so much to everyone for their patience. This took a lot longer than I thought it would, but now, at last, we get on with the show._

* * *

By the time Marth and company left the catacombs, it was no brighter outside than it was inside. The sun had long since set, and the new moon cast everything in a shroud of darkness broken only by a dim orange light just a few miles behind. The Royal Capital was burning. Marth didn't dare look back. His father, his kingdom, and his people were all gone. The knowledge alone was crippling. To witness the consequences of his failures would be too much to bear.

He held tightly onto his sister as they walked, trying his best to anchor her after the sudden departure of their oldest ally. Elice was strong, but she, like him, owed much of that strength to Hardin. His unshakable demeanor, his unyielding determination, and that readiness to address them as equals. Any other royal would be insulted, Marth guessed, but to hear his name spoken by a common man, as a true friend might say it, was an emotional balm.

Marth wanted to imagine he would be all right, but he had to be realistic. One man against thousands of Hylian warriors. How would Hardin think his way out of that?

He wanted to scream. All the same, they had to stay quiet.

Link set the pace for them as they walked through the stagnant chill of the night. They had no idea which direction they were going, having lost their orientation in the maze of tunnels, but they knew they couldn't stay still.

So they walked. Further and further away from the fallen city, away from the clamor of what little of the battle remained. But for the relative quiet, Marth kept his eyes open. They burned and watered with fatigue, but Link promised all hell to break loose. And if the past few hours had proven anything, it was that the Hylian boy was worthy of his trust. If he ever spoke more than a single word, every one was the truth.

Within an hour, the remnants of the battle were behind them, as was any semblance of civilization. Their distance from the burning city robbed them of what little light they had. All they knew was that they had come upon a forest. The smell of leaves and the wind rustling through brush and briar let them know before any of them had to bump into any trees. Even with his vision acclimated to the darkness from before, Marth still had difficulty seeing the path ahead. Not that there was one; if he had to guess, this forest was rarely visited by humans.

Elice leaned heavily on her staff as she walked. She put a hand on Marth's shoulder. He and Link came to a stop.

"Are you all right?" Marth asked.

"Yes," Elice said. "I'm just not used to walking this long,"

He nodded. "Then we should rest. Wait until morning and get our bearings then."

"No. We move while we have darkness to cover us."

"It's really not a good idea to walk through dark woods," Link said.

"What choice do we have?"

"Please, Elice, don't argue," Marth said. "You've already been through so much today. Conserve what strength you can."

Elice fell quiet for a moment. "All right, we'll rest," she said. "But only because you need it more than I. You were the ones out fighting today, after all."

"Good." Marth turned to where he thought Link was. "We'll take a moment here."

"Take as long as you need," he muttered.

* * *

Marth volunteered to take the first watch. That lasted maybe an hour before he finally nodded off alongside his sister. Not that Link blamed him; the prince had less than a full day's worth of real combat experience, and he wasn't accustomed to prolonged instances of movement. He'd never marched. That wasn't his job. He'd need his rest. Link preferred to keep an ear on things himself anyway.

Crickets all around.

An owl in the distance.

A gentle gust through leaves.

At least the darkness let him put his focus on listening.

Link found it hard to dislike the prince. He seemed aware of how easy his life up to now had been. And though they knew each other for less than a day, he felt as if they'd been through a lifetime's worth of trouble together. It was funny, really. Link never imagined himself working with a partner, much less a royal one.

But like Marth, Link had his own problems to solve. He had to get back to Hyrule some way or another. Back to Zelda. She'd know what to do.

He shifted in place. The wind started picking up, and the chill of the night forced him to move around. He wasn't about to freeze to death, but he didn't enjoy the cold. It was always warm on the farm. He kept his meandering to a minimum, though; he didn't want to stray too far from his companions. Gods, it was dark.

He wasn't standing guard long, but the second he started wondering what time it was, the weight of the day's events crashed over him all at once. His legs and arms ached, and the spot where his head hit the stone wall of the ravine started throbbing. His eyes itched and his ears rang. It was training camp all over again.

He felt through his pouch, hoping to find something to eat. He usually had at least an apple on hand – he'd gotten into the habit of picking them up if he could find them – but found nothing. For all of Altea's historic charm, it was sorely wanting for foodstuffs. He slumped against a tree and closed his eyes. Who would find them out here anyway? He took a deep breath, relaxed, and took in the sounds.

Animal grunts. Scraping dirt. Something rolling across the ground.

Voices.

He stood and drew his sword. Who or whatever the voice was spoke too softly to be heard clearly. It could have been his tired head playing tricks on him, but he didn't want to take that chance. Now on the alert, he backed up to where he thought Marth and Elice were, only to find that he'd wandered farther than he thought. He'd need to pick them out from the sound of their breaths later. That's if the fighting didn't wake them up.

Suddenly, Link realized he could see. A soft blue light drew closer, brighter, but without warning it was gone. Blinded again, he listened. The wind in the trees masked the greater part of the intruder's movement, but he got a found a clear, distinct sound he could follow.

But just as soon as he could raise his shield, the sound from the canopy disappeared. He hunkered down and braced behind his shield, sword raised overhead. Something to his right made a deliberately slow approach, but their steps were clumsy and arrhythmic. They were either injured or amateur. Whatever the case, he would use it to his advantage.

Then the movement stopped, and Link stepped in to attack.

The voice rang out again. "Link?"

He stumbled forward to a dead stop. "Zelda?"

* * *

Zelda didn't know whether to laugh or cry. They were separated for less than a day, but after her agonizing experience, it felt like years. Her nerves settled and a soothing coolness took hold of her, though it may just have been the wind.

After a tense few seconds, Link started. "I thought you were..." he trailed off and lowered his voice to continue. "I thought you'd be back at the castle," he said.

She sighed. "It's a long story, and I've neither the time nor the energy to tell it now."

"Did something happen?"

She paused to swallow the knot in her throat. "Later," she said.

He grunted an affirmation and sheathed his sword. Had he had it out the whole time?

Lucario's voice pushed to the front of her mind. « _Is this the man you were looking for?_ »

 _It is,_ she thought back.

At that, Lucario dropped from the canopy, his hands aflame. Link whirled around and raised a hand to his weapon. Zelda gripped his arm to stop him.

"Don't worry," she said. "This is Lucario. He's been keeping watch over me for as long as I've been wandering this accursed wood."

"Lucario?" he said. He lowered his arm and stood at ease. "He looks...different."

« _And you look different from me._ »

Link started and jumped back. "He can talk?!"

« _Why not? So do you._ »

"Not as much as you'd think," Zelda said, then turned back to Link. "What of Altea? I pray fortune was kinder to you."

Even if she couldn't see him well, Zelda was practically fluent in Link's eclectic forms of wordless expression. His silence was preceded by a long breath – it wasn't good news.

"Were there any survivors?" she asked, straight to the point.

He nodded. "I found the prince and the princess. They're back in the woods..." Another brief silence. "Somewhere."

"You lost them?"

"They're not far!" he said hastily.

« _I can make out two human auras just a short distance to the north,_ » Lucario said. « _Our prince and princess?_ »

"Those are the ones," Link said. "I don't think we should bother them. They need their sleep."

"So do we," Zelda said. "We'll meet with the Altean retinue in the morning, where we'll discuss our plans going forward."

Link uttered a low hum and said nothing more. After a moment's pause, she heard him shuffle forward and before she knew it, she was wrapped tightly in his arms.

She stiffened at first, but the sense of nostalgia and the strength of his embrace soon assuaged her anxiety. It was like they were children again; they hadn't been so close since before he joined the army.

"I'm just glad you're safe," he said at last.

She bit her lip and choked back a sob, hoping he didn't hear. Not a second later, he let her go and stepped back.

She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but waking up at the break of the following dawn felt like a dream.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Please allow me to extend my sincerest apologies about the length of time it took to get this up here. I won't make any excuses for myself, but know that I ought to be back on track with chapters._

 _Speaking of chapters, I knew I said I wanted to have shorter ones when I started out, but at only four pages, this is actually the shortest document in the story so far. And I confess myself disappointed. Half the time, I was trying to get this up to what I felt was the requisite size for one of these installments, but I couldn't force it, and I didn't want to force it. So here we are._

 _As for the story, we have convergence at last! Or the beginnings of it, anyway. The "player party" is only going to get larger from here, so I hope everyone will stick around to see what comes next. It won't be long now. And I mean it this time!_


	12. Ch 12: Foreign Relations

_Holiday greetings to all my friends and readers. What better gift to give than an update? In any case, on with the show._

* * *

Chancellor Cole wandered anxiously through the dark corridors of Hyrule Castle, carefully inspecting the same holes, scrapes and bloodstains, being careful not to step on any of the dead castle guards that littered the hallway. A message came through about monsters – strange ones, the likes of which no one in Hyrule had ever encountered on record. Witnesses could only give a cursory description of what they might have seen before being herded into their homes by the town guard. No two accounts were alike, and each one took more liberties than the last.

He never got the opportunity to speak to the Demon King. He only hoped he could get the chance to reprimand those senile witches for their part in this absurd drama. He was promised a royal corpse, but received instead a ruined castle, frightened citizens, and half a garrison laid to waste.

Cole turned a corner sharply and was dismayed at the presence of his fellow courtier. Agahnim stood over one of the bodies, looking down at it with what any normal man would mistake for pity. Seemed he wasn't worthy of the Demon King's time after all.

"Shall I assume you have an explanation for all this?" Agahnim said sternly.

Cole strode over to the towering mage. "You know damn well what all of this is! This is some scheme of those hag twins!"

"So I was told. Forgive me, Cole. I didn't think you desperate enough to cut corners."

"Spare me the false pity, you sycophant. You're wasting your time trying to foist the blame on me. Whichever one of the Demon King's servants the witches selected was obviously not up to task."

"The twins are known for their hasty and fallible shortcuts. By all accounts, you bear as much responsibility for this as they do."

Cole scoffed and started pacing the breadth of the hallway. He produced a small watch from his pocket and fiddled with it. "There isn't time for this nonsense," he said. "Wherever the failure occurred, the fact remains that Her Little Majesty is still out there, and presumably not in pieces. Need I remind you that for us to succeed we need to kill the spoiled wench?!"

Agahnim didn't move from his spot, yet Cole felt his eyes boring holes into his very core. "In that case, it behooves us to locate Her Majesty with all haste."

"Well, get on with it! Every moment wasted is-"

"Listen closely," Agahnim boomed.

Cole stopped dead in his tracks as a wave of pressure broke over his back. The mage's power forced itself down on him like heavy rain. He didn't so much as twitch.

"I'm not here to suffer orders, or entertain foolish excuses. I bring a message from the Demon King himself." He took a step forward and bent down to meet Cole eye-to-eye. "Your work is not yet over, but your place in all this is quickly becoming redundant. Your task is to assist me in keeping the citizens oblivious to the nature of our movements. And if you fail to account for this misstep, the punishment will be dire."

Agahnim stood straight and walked past, disappearing into a doorway. Cole remained motionless until he was out of sight, then slacked with a deep breath.

As bad as things were, he at least had the assurance that no one in the castle town knew of the Queen's fate, much less her whereabouts. If he could spin it well enough, he could have the whole of the kingdom believing that she was killed in the monster attack.

He fidgeted with his watch a little longer, then made for the throne room. Some good might have come from this farce after all.

* * *

Even when hidden behind the dense tapestry of leaves overhead, the dawn broke just as radiantly as ever. With a mix of guilt and confusion, Marth stirred awake. He must have nodded off sometime in the middle of it. His head was still foggy from exhaustion, but the aches and pains of yesterday's trials had dulled to something he could safely ignore.

With the horrors of the night dispelled, Marth observed, for the first time, the reality of his situation. He lifted his head from the ground and scratched a bit of dirt out of his hair. Elice was next to him, still dozing, but no cleaner; her robes were caked with grime from the catacombs and soil from the forest floor, and her face was drained of color. It was cold that night, he remembered, but the promise of fitful sleep was too grand to pass up out of hand.

He stood slowly as his mind pieced together what was real. None of it seemed possible; his father's murder, Hardin's sacrifice, all down to their exile. _Like a living nightmare,_ he thought.

But he was alive. Elice was alive. Circumstances notwithstanding, that was a miracle. And if anything positive could be gleaned from their misfortune up to now, it was that they made it through the first night.

Elice stirred awake just a few moments after her brother. She pushed herself off the ground with some effort, but sat where she was, shivering off the last of the morning chill. She then opened her eyes and peered blankly around the wood, unsure of what she might have wanted or even expected to find. The trepidation of her movements told Marth that she was just as lost and confused as he was.

He started to say something, but decided she was best left alone. She would speak if she wanted to.

After some time, she raised a hand. Marth took it and pulled her to her feet, taking care not to move too suddenly. Though he would have much liked to say it was for her sake alone, he was also being considerate of himself; spots of dull, thick soreness like iron wedges settled into his joints, especially in his sword arm.

Elice seemed aware of this, and did her part, tired as she was, to ameliorate the burden. Marth felt a sharp sting of guilt as her legs brought her shakily upright, but a length she stood, and smiled a genuine thanks to her brother.

That job done, Marth reclined against a tree and looked around. In daylight, the forest didn't seem nearly as dense or treacherous; there wasn't a beaten path, but the trees were generously spaced, spreading their leaves wide overhead. There were even a few fruit-bearing ones, though they still had time to ripen. What unpleasantness they endured the night before was naught but illusion.

As he took in the sights, he saw Link approaching in the distance. Before Marth could wonder when he left, he was in front of the two of them, standing dutifully at attention.

"Where on earth...?" Elice started.

"Just picking up a friend," Link said. He turned his head to look back.

Marth leaned over to one side to follow his line of sight. A fair distance down the forest path was a young woman – younger than even himself, he guessed – in a dress that might have passed for Imperial finery were it not marred with cuts and caked with dirt, not that he was in any position to begrudge her the state of her clothing. She herself was disheveled and battered, sporting a worrisome bruise on her collar and obviously heavily bandaged. Nevertheless, she carried herself with an effortless, royal gait, unwavering and powerful.

 _She couldn't be,_ he thought, though he knew better.

Painlessly and perfectly, she stepped in front of the trio and gave Link a momentary glance before finally turning her eyes to Marth and Elice. Without hesitation, Link stepped aside.

"Presenting Her Royal Majesty, Queen Zelda Andoria Hyrule."

The Queen bowed her head.

Diplomacy again. For a painful instant, Marth pined for the war.

* * *

"Your Majesty," Link said, "His Highness, Prince Marth of Altea, and his sister, Princess Elice."

She and Link both understood the importance of ceremony in occasions such as these, and the only reason she bothered to observe any of it today was to humor him. It would be different if they were in an audience chamber or conference room where such customs had any significance, but to do it in the middle of a desolate wood seemed a waste of time.

 _Would that I could just ignore this pretense,_ she thought. She swallowed the bitterness in her mouth and scrutinized the two before her. They both looked absolutely terrible; the otherwise handsome features of the royal siblings were cruelly undone by the state of their dress – torn, ragged, and in the young prince's case, stained with blood. If nothing else, she had that to be grateful for; common ground was hard to find, but at least they were together in being displaced and suffering.

"Your Majesty," the Princess said, "Please let me express what an honor it is to finally meet you in person."

"The honor is mine," she said. "And you have my sympathies and condolences for your kingdom and her people."

"We appreciate the sentiment, but it's hardly necessary," said the Prince. "The Imperial occupation is temporary at best. My sister and I are working out a way to defeat it as we speak."

 _Imperial?_ Zelda's gut twisted at the sound of the word. Hyrule was no empire; the gods decreed their land and kingdom sacred, and may take only what the world beyond gave them. Expansion by force was explicitly forbidden.

"Would it please the two of you, I'd prefer we abandon the official tone. Time is short, and I'm certain that no one has the patience to navigate protocol."

"I agree," Prince Marth sighed. "With our kingdoms' respective futures in question, it's best we work quickly, even at the expense of propriety."

At least he was smart. "Then let us begin. First, you must realize that this occupation is not part of any royal decree."

"Yes, your Chancellor's emissary made that all too plain."

"And who might the Chancellor have sent to throw down the gauntlet?"

"None other than the..." He paused, obviously to think of a more friendly term. "... _estimable_ warlock. One Agahnim by name, if memory serves."

"I see," she said. Yesterday, the news might have shocked her. Today, it only seemed to make more sense. It was natural that Cole and Agahnim would aspire to the throne, but Agahnim was incredibly powerful by anyone's reckoning, even her own. It would stand to reason that if he was interested in taking the throne, he could have easily done it himself.

"Your Majesty," Elice said, "I can't help but wonder how you came to be in this predicament."

Zelda sighed. If she was going to have to tell this story more than twice, she'd go mad. "Put simply, there was an attempt on my life. I fought the assassin, but only escaped with the timely intercession of an unknown party. Since then, it's been hour after cursed hour blazing a trail in this damned forest."

The princess lowered her head solemnly. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't," Zelda snapped, nearly wincing at her own harshness. She softened her tone and tried once more. "Don't worry. The more we know of each other's circumstances, the better."

"A question for you, then, Your Majesty," the prince said accusingly. "Does the name 'Ghirahim' mean anything to you?"

That was certainly a new one. "Nothing," she said.

"He fancies himself a Lord of some kind, and said he acted in Hyrule's name." Marth's eyes narrowed. "His is the hand that murdered my father."

Zelda closed her eyes and drew a breath. Cole's games had robbed thousands of a sovereign to lead them, both in Altea and Hyrule. Her thoughts briefly turned to her own father, his once-powerful visage withering on his deathbed. Gods, she missed him. "I'm sorry," she muttered.

His Highness was silent for a little while, but eventually said, "You've nothing to apologize for. It's already quite clear that you had no part in this."

"But let us now focus on the future," the princess said. "We surely can't mean to wander this wood until this crisis passes. Action must be taken."

Zelda opened her eyes again. "As fortune would have it, my benefactor left me instructions."

She produced the note and handed it to the prince, who eyed it with no small amount of skepticism. "Enchanted kingdom?" he said.

"We travel northward. Supposedly, there's safe haven to be found in that direction."

"That's a lot of ground to cover," Link said. Zelda had almost forgotten he was there.

"It's better than nothing," Prince Marth said. "When do we begin?"

Zelda forced down a smirk. "When my other bodyguard returns." And when he did, it would be hilarious.

 _«You won't have to wait long,»_ said a now-familiar voice in her head. Zelda looked behind. Lucario came through the brush in plain sight, a dead animal slung over his shoulder. Breakfast, no doubt.

The two heirs' inevitably dumbfounded reaction to the oddity that was Lucario was just the thing to brighten Zelda's mood. She let them stew in that for a while as Link set about preparing a fire.

* * *

 _Author's Note:  
Production-level fun fact: no less than nine percent of my time on the Zelda Wiki is spent trying to remember how to spell Agahnim's name._

 _Boy, writing that last section was a trial. Long, uninterrupted exchanges are easy to type, but a pain to edit, especially when you have diction like what's featured here. Conveying nonverbal thought and feeling is even harder when you're dealing with two leaders meeting on such strange terms._

 _Consider the following. In the FFXV film Kingsglaive, two rulers engaged in dialogue deliberately use innocuous words to disguise their true intentions, and with Marth's embarrassing inexperience as a diplomat colliding with Zelda's fragile facade of maturity, it seemed at first a natural fit. But as I got to typing, it occurred to me that, unlike the film, both of these former rulers' goals run parallel, and so have no reason to mask threats with cutesy turns of phrase. So much for sustained conflict. But there's still a lot of time; we might just get something like this down the line._


	13. Ch 13: Moving Out

_Oka_ _y_ _, enough fooling around. Time to get back to work on this sucker. On with the show._

* * *

It had been so long since he last had to rough it in the woods that Link almost forgot how much he disliked a breakfast of roasted monster. The first time he had to eat a young octorok over an open fire, he expected it to be repulsive. Instead, it was just kind of disappointing. Uncle had a way of making miracles with the limited spices they had, but on the march toward Eldin, there was nothing of the sort. So then, like now, he grimaced down each sample of his unimpressive meal and praised his good fortune that it was at least something to eat. He was starving.

So was Zelda, by the look of things. She barely paused between bites, taking each one with almost rapturous vigor. He would have laughed if it wouldn't give her away; she was actively trying to contain herself in front of these strange foreigners, and was doing a passable job of it, for what it was worth. Marth and Elice took no notice either way, too busy wondering what it was they were expected to eat.

Come to think of it, Link wasn't really sure what it was, either. He took another bite.

Lucario ate nothing. He stood to one side, observing something in the far distance that eluded Link's vision and, embarrassingly, his hearing. Lucario looked like he had good eyes – keen, bright, and quick. If anyone was going to spot an "enchanted kingdom," he'd be the first to do it. Yet there was something strange about this creature that went beyond the obvious; his sensibilities were human in every respect, but some bestial quality remained that separated him from ordinary people. Link didn't linger on that line of thought. Lucario might have been listening.

Link had just finished his second helping when Zelda broke the silence. "Our objective lies to the north. Altea is situated in that direction as well, is it not?"

Marth nodded. "It does. And to set foot there again would be tantamount to suicide."

"And further than that is Hyrule," Link said. "With everything going on there, we won't be able to get close to the castle town."

« _But just 'north' leaves a lot of room for error,_ » Lucario said out of nowhere.

Elice nodded. "Think of it this way: it will be easy to circumnavigate the royal capital," she said. "We shall use the mountains. If there is a path, we follow it."

Link tossed the last bone of his meal away. "Not a bad idea, but we'll need to move fast if we're going to outpace the army."

"Armies," Marth corrected. "No doubt Altean stragglers have been forced into the Hylian ranks."

« _Then we'd better get started,_ » said Lucario. « _I can see something out there. And it's moving quickly._ »

Zelda nodded and stood. "That we shall. Prince Marth, Lucario, you're the ones most familiar with these lands. Lead on and we'll follow."

Steadying his heart, Link jumped up to his feet and positioned himself at the rear. After meeting something like Lucario, it was anyone's guess what else would rear its head in this strange land.

* * *

The forest was quiet in the daylight, and with a bright sky and a full belly (thank the gods), Zelda almost found her walk through it enjoyable. Still, her sore legs and aching head quashed much of the joviality to be found in this company.

 _Ah, yes, company._ Even surrounded by strangers as she was, she rejoiced in the idea that she had people around with whom she could share the burden. She didn't have much opportunity to get to know the Altean royals before their short repast, but she figured she had a long while to get acquainted – a long while that she wouldn't have been looking forward to if she thought she could have gotten over the mountains alone.

As retinues went, she couldn't have asked for better. Link's outstanding abilities had been proven time and again in Eldin, and Lucario's initial performance against the helmasaur was all the convincing she needed of his worth. As for the royal siblings, Zelda wasn't comfortable taking Link's word that they were capable. They certainly didn't look like warriors, though the Prince did wear a sword. And the blood staining his cloak didn't appear to be entirely his, but she was no judge of that. The Princess, on the other hand, seemed the textbook damsel; anemic, unfocused, jittery, and obviously kept well out of reach of blades and fangs for the greater part of her life.

It was hard not to be envious.

« _Are you doing okay?_ » said Lucario. She could tell the message was private. It echoed more deeply in her ears.

 _I will be,_ she thought back.

« _The others don't seem so sure._ »

Without realizing she'd been looking at the ground all this time, she turned her eyes upward. Link and Prince Marth slowed themselves to match her pace, a mix of concern and puzzlement etched on their faces.

She brushed her hair aside. "Is something the matter?"

"You seemed to be getting tired," said the Prince, "We didn't want to leave you behind."

Zelda couldn't tell if he was being considerate or patronizing. "I was just thinking," she said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "The relative quiet has finally afforded me some time to do so."

His Highness scowled at her. Not threatening in any way, but nonetheless a challenge. He wasn't easy to fool. Maybe there was something more to him after all.

She met his challenge with enthusiasm. Their eyes locked like blades, each scanning the other for some trace of weakness – some momentary lapse in bearing to gain the upper hand. And the more the Prince played, the more Zelda realized he was nothing like the lords and counts she used to spar with. His defense was practically nonexistent; a raised brow, flaring in the nostrils, a slight downward curl in his lip, all betraying his frustration. But in his eyes she saw an unmistakable resolve, a determination to strike at the first opening he saw. He didn't really want to win. He just wanted to break through her defenses at least once.

For an instant, she even thought he might succeed.

Of course, she could always count on Link to break the tension. "He's only trying to help. I'm sure Marth didn't mean anything by it."

"Now, Link..."

Their game forgotten, the Prince smiled. "It's quite all right. If anything, I'm glad to be so familiar to someone that they won't bother themselves with titles. Besides, was it not you who suggested we leave such ceremony behind, _Your Majesty?_ "

She scoffed. _So he has a sense of humor as well._

"It would seem you've delivered my brother a true friend, Majesty," Princess Elice said.

"So it does," Zelda replied, unable to think of any appropriately scathing remark.

Her Grace loosed a small laugh. "I count myself fortunate to be escorted by Hyrule's most affable knight."

Zelda smiled in spite of herself. She looked to Link, who in turn sheepishly scratched the back of his head. He was always modest.

Just as he moved his hand down, his ears twitched. He thrust an arm out, halting the march. Zelda's own hearing wasn't honed as finely as Link's, but she soon picked it up. Faint but growing louder, a lupine growling; the telltale sign of wolfos on the prowl.

Marth's sword was the first one drawn. Link's followed slowly after. Lucario shut his eyes tight, trying to focus in on the beasts' aura, perhaps.

Anxiety jolted her heart, but Zelda knew this to be no time to panic. She took a calming breath and tried to remember what she read in the bestiaries. The only phrase she could distinctly recall was "aggressively territorial carnivores."

 _At least it's not another helmasaur,_ she thought to herself.

Whatever comfort she found in that thought was lost the moment one of the beasts leapt from the shadows. The bestiary's diagrams barely did this thing justice; it was larger than she might have thought, standing a full head taller than herself. Its fur was mottled with dirt and gristle from whatever had the misfortune to meet it last. Its face was contorted into an insane grimace, its mismatched eyes glowing a hideous yellow.

In one swift motion, the wolfos reared one of its massive forearms back and snapped at Lucario, who sidestepped and countered with a kick to its flank. The blow forced the monster to retreat, jumping back into the shade of the trees where two more of its pack joined the fray. The three of them began running circles around the party, trying to close them in and finish them off quickly.

One ran into Marth's measure, and was rewarded with a cut to its hind leg. The creature moved back, then in once again, undeterred. Link had his shield raised, trying his best to ward them off. Elice stood ready with her staff, trying to look as if she was ready to fight.

Between the frantic movement and the rushing of her blood, Zelda struggled to keep up with the action. She swiveled to check on Lucario when one of the wolfos broke from the perimeter to strike at her. Before it could get too close, Link closed in and intercepted the attack with his shield. They pushed fruitlessly against one another before Marth lunged into the beast, burying his sword halfway into its back. The wounded animal's cry earned it no sympathy from its fellows, who continued to circle the entrapped retinue even as Marth's follow-up slash cleanly bisected it.

At least now she knew he could use his sword.

With this new lull in the fighting, Zelda took a moment to quiet her thoughts. She raised an arm to muster some magic, and one of the wolfos saw that as its opportunity. With no time for anyone to react, it jumped and landed behind her. Zelda had just enough time to get her arm between the monster's claw and her own neck. She saw its claw rake through the fabric of her glove and into her flesh, heard the blood spatter against the grass, but was surprised to feel very little of it. This wasn't like it was with Zant; this thing wasn't going to blindside her with some carefully chosen, masterfully executed technique. She was ready for this, the surging adrenaline dulling the pain of the blow.

Instinctively, gathered what power she could and lashed out with her other hand. Her spell struck the wolfos dead on, sending it headlong into one of the sturdier trees. The impact shook a few leaves from its boughs, and the animal slumped lifeless to the forest floor.

The last one realized not a moment too soon that it was alone. Just as it turned tail and made to flee, a blast of aura loosed from Lucario's palm cut its escape short. The wolfos collapsed to the ground as dead as the rest of them.

After a moment's silence, Zelda let out the breath she'd been holding, and was about to pray her gratitude to the Goddesses when a flash of pain reminded her of the gouge in her arm. She winced and grasped at the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding with force alone.

"Zelda!" Link didn't waste any time in getting to her. His eyes immediately fixated on the cut, and it took him a few seconds to finally look up at her. He made no attempt to hide the mounting concern in his face.

She nodded slowly, trying to set him at ease. "It's nothing, Link. I'm all right."

« _You won't be if that gets infected,_ » Lucario thought.

"We need to get this bandaged quick," Link said.

Before Zelda could retort, Elice imposed herself between them. "May I take a look?" she said.

"I told you, I'll be fine," Zelda said.

"Just for a moment." Elice held out an insistent hand.

Were it not for the wolfos attack, Zelda might have obliged her the same contest as she had with Marth. But she was already growing weary of the argument, and resignedly lifted her arm. Elice took it gingerly in her hand and looked it over.

After a brief inspection, Elice smiled at her patient. "Well, it doesn't seem to be very deep, and the bleeding isn't terrible," she said, "But Lucario is right. We don't want an injury of this like to fester. Now, then..."

She lifted her staff with her other hand. To her surprise, Zelda felt a sudden surge of power from within her royal peer. The pain in her arm dulled, and was soon replaced by a wave of cooling relaxation. She watched as the cut closed and smoothed over. When Elice drew her hand back, the only clue that there was a wound at all was the tear in Zelda's glove.

For an uncomfortably long time, Zelda stood in befuddled silence. As basic as that spell was, curative magic of that sort was endemic to the Hylian Royal Family. It should have been impossible for Elice to even dream of performing it. After wrestling her thoughts to a semblance of stillness, she looked to the princess and attempted to mutter thanks. Evidently, she failed.

Elice leaned nonchalantly on her staff. "You're quite welcome," she said.

"Where in all creation did you learn that?" Zelda wondered aloud.

"A few Hylian volumes found their way into our library. After arduous study, a few of our court mages were able to duplicate some of the basic spells and rituals, though anything beyond that has heretofore eluded us."

"Well," Zelda tugged at the holes in her glove, "Duplication or no, the results are nonetheless convincing."

"You'll find my sister to be quite the scholar," Marth said. His tone turned serious. "Are you able to continue? If you need to rest, one of us can stand guard."

Zelda shook her head. "It's best we move on. This encounter lost us precious time, and the empire's army will be closing in on us."

The prince nodded, and the march resumed in earnest.

 _These Alteans are formidable indeed.  
_

* * *

This world of light burned. The abysmal dawn threw rays of harsh light like piercing javelins through the skin. His robes offered scant protection against the incorrigible radiance. His helm echoed with the sound of his own breath and the voices of his distant masters. They were displeased.

They had the right. The Queen still lived.

The lord of shadows had long been silent. That was more condemnation than any harsh word or terrible pain. Had his god forsaken him? Cast him out?

The One-As-Two harried him with their chatter. Scathed him with juvenile insults. Warned him that he would share all their fate should he fail. He didn't need reminding. And he would meet his fate with dignity. He would deserve it for failing at such a simple task.

A ring of metal and a flick of his wrist cleft a nearby stone in two. The blade weighed unnaturally in his hand, moved too slowly in the sunlight. He would have to wait.

Sunset. Yes, that was good. When all the world would be under a pall of shadow. His powers would be greatest then.

Zant cast his eyes to the cloudless sky. It would all happen very soon.

* * *

 _Author's Note: No apology I can make could possibly excuse my going away for so long. Not that this is much of an excuse, but you'd be surprised how much a busted keyboard can impact one's motivation to write._ _I haven't solved that problem yet, but I'm working at it._

 _Not much to say about this chapter, really; it's another transitional thing where I tr to develop characters while throwing monsters at them. Par for the course in your standard Final Fantasy setting, but it can get a little awkward if you only have prose to drive the combat. On the one hand, it's easier to integrate exposition into a fight this way, but on the other hand, it can be a chore to go between exposition and action so quickly and so often. I'm working on adjusting my technique to smooth it out, though._

 _(Want to know how bad my keyboard is? It took me twelve minutes to type this A/N. Stupid alt sequences.)_


	14. Ch 14: Encroaching Twilight

_Once again, I return to bring you a new chapter. I told you I would never disappear permanently. Now, on with the show._

* * *

The sun had already started to dip in the sky when the company finally found their way out of the wood. Everyone kept walking long after the trail had run out, following Lucario's lead closely. Marth kept pace immediately behind him, a little embarrassed that he had to let someone else lead him on through his own homeland, but mostly relieved that they could finally put that forest behind them.

Stepping into the full daylight after so long in darkness did wonders for Marth's spirits, and certainly Elice's as well; some color had returned to her face, and while it was clear the long trek was wearing on her, she was more than content to soldier on. Even Zelda's hitherto unflagging acerbity gave way to some relief. Given everything she'd been through, he couldn't blame her.

Yet while the cloudless sky assuaged much of the previous night's anxious dread, it did nothing to reassure Marth of the existence of Zelda's lost kingdom. Every step he took, his rational mind would chide his base emotions anew. The thinking parts of him understood the need for immediate yet careful action. Yet in the absence of tenable options, he had to get entangled in a chase for some fairyland invented by a distraught queen's absent savior.

Yet what other choice did he have? Go back to Altea and air his grievances to the occupying army? If that were to yield any results at all, it would be himself and Elice in chains – and then at the gallows. There was no way he could envision every possible scenario, let alone divine which among them would be the most likely outcome.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to stop his mind from going into a spiral. When he opened them again, he realized they were in neither grassland nor plain, but rather a rocky trail. He also realized he had fallen behind. Lucario looked ahead as the rest of the group obligingly paused to allow him to catch up.

He lengthened his stride to catch up. "My apologies," he said. "I let my mind wander too far astray."

« _Try not to make a habit of it,_ » Lucario said. « _You know we're here for a reason, right?_ »

Marth wasn't sure what to make of Lucario's tone. Link chimed in before he could decide. "Where is 'here,' anyway?" he asked.

"Considering the distance we've walked," Elice said. "I believe this to be the western face of the Tellius mountain range."

"Then we should seek higher ground," said Zelda. "How quickly can we reach the summit?"

Marth shook his head. "That would be unwise."

The young queen turned halfway to face him. "Why would that be?" she asked, obviously exasperated.

Another contest it was. "If our pursuers were to find us at the peak, it would be all too simple for them to outmaneuver us. The phrase 'fish in a barrel' springs to mind."

"Yet if we stay here, we'd be no closer to finding our objective, and certainly in no less danger. We need only remain long enough to spot some sort of landmark."

"What sort of 'landmark' do you expect to find?" Marth asked, trying to preserve his patience.

He could see Zelda was trying to do the same. "An enchanted kingdom would no doubt be effusing magic power. I can vaguely sense it, but Lucario can visualize it. Between the two of us, we should be able to discern a direction, if not an absolute location."

"And if you find nothing, what then?"

Zelda's eyes narrowed. "Then we keep moving. If we stay ahead of the armies, another option may well present itself."

"So your plan is to run to the world's end?"

"Is _your_ plan to waste what little time we have fielding useless inquiry?"

"Whatever we do," Link interjected, "We need to do it fast. The longer we stand around, the shorter our lead gets."

Whatever retort Marth could have posed died on the end of his tongue. Damnation, the boy was right. They had garnered a slight advantage over the armies nipping at their heels, but who knew how long that was to last? At the very least, Zelda – her gaze softening and posture relaxing – seemed to recognize the wisdom in those words. Or perhaps she thought he was siding with her.

 _A true knight, loyal to a fault,_ he thought, bowing his head. "So it does," he said aloud.

Link only offered a curt nod in response.

Elice cut the silence short. "Would you still see us to the peak, Lucario?"

The beast-man raised a hand and closed his eyes in a moment's meditation. « _I can get us all there in about two hours. Not that it'll be a comfortable spot to camp out in._ »

"Anything would be an improvement over a forest floor," Zelda said. "Lead on, then."

Without a word, Lucario did as instructed, and the ensemble were on the march once more. Marth stood for a moment, until a sympathetic glance from his sister coaxed him into following.

His once wandering mind started racing. He needed to plan.

* * *

After how quickly the day flew by up to this point, Zelda dismayed at the crawl the minutes had slowed to. Every time Lucario crested a hill, she would begin a prayer to Din, begging for the strength to carry herself over it. But the Goddesses were in a playful mood this evening, it seemed; every step she took landed heavily and clumsily on the unforgiving stone of the mountain trail. Her already sore legs were only growing more tired, and she had to physically bite back a demand that they stop for just a single second and rest already, dammit.

This hadn't escaped Link's notice, and he offered, in his inimitable language of silence, to carry the message to their guide.

After a stretch of careful deliberation, she shook her head. Time was of the essence, and if he was willing to slog up this mountain for her sake, the least she could do would be to endure it alongside him. Reluctantly, Link acquiesced, and forged on.

The journey dragged on without much in the way of excitement, and as the sun settled onto the horizon, Zelda couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable quiet the party had fallen into. For many of those interminable minutes, not a word was spoken. The climb was first and last on everyone's mind. It was as if some intangible force was drawing them toward the peak of this mountain. This, she thought, was a sign if ever there was one. She reached out with her mind, probing for any stray trace of magic that might be traced to her goal.

They climbed. She searched.

They climbed higher. She searched harder.

Marth helped Elice over a ledge as Link peered out into the distance. The mountain rolled away behind them, extending its monolithic reach to the heavens.

Zelda furrowed her brow, determined not to let her mounting frustration get the better of her as she continued to seek out the faintest scintilla of magic. And as the sun sank lower, as the summit of the mountain loomed overhead, at last she found something. Something horrible.

A sickening, churning darkness rising into the sky from a font of pure thaumaturgical energy lay directly on the path they walked. Lucario's fur bristled as he stopped cold in his tracks, bringing the rest of the party to the same screeching halt. Marth drew his sword and whispered something to his sister. Link retreated a few steps to cover them.

Zelda stood still, trying to still her heart – she knew this power.

A monstrous wail sounded from just out of sight. She turned to its source, and from out of the shadowy crags came an unnatural figure, broad, misshapen and clad head to toe in dark robes.

"We meet again, Your Majesty."

* * *

"Zant..." Zelda whispered, seizing in place as the stranger rounded the corner.

Link kept to the side for a few moments as he examined the mysterious newcomer. For someone with such a sizable build, his poise was unshakeable. He was clearly powerful, and his position and tone indicated a clear intent to do harm.

This Zant surely wasn't anyone he was familiar with, and he couldn't imagine how he and Zelda knew each other – he'd met just about everyone on her father's court and never so much as heard of this man. But Link was more surprised by how she reacted to him. She was unfailingly transparent about her disdain for certain people, but this wasn't just disdain; her normally hawkish eyes were unfocused, her stance was stiff and guarded, and he could hear her a subtle shakiness in her breath. She was afraid.

That was all he needed to know. He rushed immediately in front of Zelda and readied his shield.

Zant tilted his head in quizzical fashion. "Ah, the lowly servant rushes to the aid of his master. Suicidal devotion runs in overwhelming supply in Hyrule." He sighed, "How disappointing."

"What do you want from her?" Link said.

"Her head," Zant replied flatly. "As well as those of any who would stand in my way to get it." He pivoted slowly, casting his gaze to the rest of the group. "And it would seem Her Majesty has assembled quite the entourage."

« _I suggest you stand aside_ ,» Lucario said « _None of us have the time for a fight, and we can't afford to play nice._ »

"I have no interest in fighting. I'm merely wielding the axe, so to speak."

"Another Imperial assassin, then," Marth said, drawing his sword. "Is Hyrule's new leadership so intent on world domination that they would destroy their own people? Their own queen?"

"Hyrule...?" Zant said, meeting the prince's eyes. He took a single step toward Marth and Elice, and the both of them tensed.

Link heard something like a click from Zant's helmet. He watched as a small latch on the mouthpiece snaked upwards, revealing a scarred, discolored lips curled in a mirthless smile.

Zant went on, "Hyrule can rot for all I care. I look upon it and see nothing but a misbegotten nation of fools and charlatans, ruled over by feckless thieves posturing as royals. Yet my master..." His voice trailed off into a strange lilt, and he raised his arms as if in reverence. "My Dark Lord's will is the only objective I strive to meet. It was his command that I destroy the remnants of the Hylian dynasty, that he may seat the throne in your place. And I, his agent of destruction, will command his armies and inherit his domain. And so I come to you, Your Majesty, to extinguish Hyrule's fading light at long last."

It was at that point Link had enough. Furiously, he launched himself at Zant, who simply stood in anticipation the blow. Yet just as he was about to deliver the decisive cut, an unseen force wrapped around his midriff and carried him into the air.

Zant pointed a finger directly at Link's head, and a cloud of black magic swirled around it. "Your fate was sealed when you stood in my way, boy!"

Suddenly, an azure sphere of light struck the interloper directly in the chest, forcing him off-balance and freeing Link from his grasp. Thank goodness it was only a short fall. He landed roughly but safely on the ground and watched as Lucario pressed his offensive, unleashing a flurry of strikes that Zant frantically retreated from. Seeing his opportunity, Link stood and made his way to join the fight.

Before he could reach the two combatants, Zant struck at a momentary weakness in Lucario's guard, sending him careening backwards toward the rest of the party. Link sidestepped just in time to avoid the projectile beast-man, but looked back to see his opponent closing in brandishing a scimitar. Just like that, he was on the defensive. He lifted his shield and intercepted the blow, but the sheer force of it carried through the ancient aegis and landed like a two-ton boulder on his arm. In shock and pain, he had no choice but to abandon his counteroffensive and focus instead on catching Zant's attacks. The blade rose and fell mercilessly, each strike connecting with more force than the last.

Before Link's defenses cold buckle completely, Marth introduced himself to the battle, disrupting Zant's onslaught with a quick thrust. The prince's blade glanced off of the ornate helmet, but it was more than enough to direct Zant's ire toward him for a moment. He produced a second scimitar from his sleeve and bore down on Marth with atrocious vigor.

And left himself wide open in the process.

Link swung outward and connected with the assassin's flank, causing him to recoil and vanish his blades. The two swordsmen closed in on their adversary when Zant, with a mighty roar, splayed out his arms and sent a torrent of magic pushing outward like a massive tidal wave. Link instinctively went to raise his shield, but was swept off his feet and sent careening through the air.

Time slowed as he concentrated on righting himself. Watching the ground tumble above and below him, he twisted in midair, distributing his weight just so. His right heel touched down first, and his left followed. He stumbled backward, slightly dizzy but otherwise unhurt, before finally steadying himself.

Marth, he noticed, hadn't been so lucky. He must have struck a rock face during his flight; he lay sprawled on the ground in a twitching heap, short of breath and obviously injured. His hands groped dumbly for his sword, which had come to rest only just out of reach. Zant had already started closing in on him, but before Link could despair at how far away he was, Lucario reappeared and intercepted the assassin.

The two traded blows for a few moments, and when it seemed Zant would once again win the upper hand, a mystic shockwave blasted him backward, sending him skidding along the ground. Link smiled; Zelda was always a quick learner.

But weaving spells took time, and if they were to defeat Zant, she would need as much as she could get. Tired and desperate, Link rushed the assassin with Lucario at his side as they launched a tandem assault, throwing any and every attack they could to keep their foe off balance. Zant did his best to keep pace, but the fight had been just as long as grueling for him as it had for everyone else; his guard started to wear down and counterattacks were few and far between. Link pressed his advantage and aimed a cut at their opponent's hand. To no one's greater surprise than his own, the blade found its mark and Zant's scimitar was sent tumbling skyward.

Just then, the telltale hum of Zelda's magic grew to a crescendo, and Link sprung to the side to avoid it. A beam of golden radiance struck Zant squarely in the chest, launching him backwards into a stone spire with bone-crushing force. Slowly, he slid to the ground.

All was still for a moment as the sun finally retired beyond the hills, casting the mountain into abyssal darkness. The sound of his own heartbeat echoed in Link's ears while he caught his breath. Elice had already started seeing to Marth while Zelda rejoined the rest of the party. Lucario's glowing eyes fixed firmly on Zant all the while.

"Did we get him?" Link asked through labored panting.

« _I wouldn't count on it,_ » Lucario said. « _His aura is faint, but still flowing. I doubt he'll go down so easily._ »

"You..." came Zant's rumbling reply, "...are correct."

Everyone tensed all over again, but Zelda didn't move so much as an inch. "You are bested, Zant. Yield and I will see you treated with honor."

"Honor?" The interloper's head tilted again. "You, the gilded craven who tucked tail and fled when her kingdom was threatened, would speak of honor? No..." He raised an accusatory arm to the group. "The honorable thing would be to face your people's judgment. Perhaps they will be merciful and simply tear you apart. At the least, you would be spared my master's ire."

Link looked to Zelda imploringly, but she never so much as returned a glance. Her gaze never drifted from the dark mass on the ground, and her expression slowly twisted from her usual regal stoicism to one of unbridled hatred. After a long pause, she took a step forward. "You had your chance," she said as she channeled magic into her palm.

A soft, mystical hum. A distant cry of nocturnal birds.

A shrill whistling, closing fast.

Link pivoted and deflected an arrow off his shield, and looked up to see dozens more materialize over the crags. Releasing her brother, Elice sprang upright and erected a transparent dome to thwart the volley.

Then came the sound of marching boots.

Link looked over to Elice. "Can this stop blades, too?"

"If I can maintain it long enough," she said quietly. He heard the rasp in her voice; she was plainly weary from the climb. It wouldn't be long before she either gave out or gave up.

Zant uttered a broken laugh. "Judgment is at hand, Your Majesty," he said, and then vanished in a black haze.

Once he was gone, the column against which he rested collapsed, revealing a bizarre green cylinder, not unlike...

« _A tube?_ » Lucario said.

Link couldn't have said it better. He looked between the strange tube and the mountain pass, and came to a decision he felt he would later regret.

"Somebody grab Marth," he said.

Lucario didn't waste a second in doing as instructed. The prince groaned in protest as he was lifted off the ground.

Zelda's eyes widened. "You can't seriously be considering..."

« _You have any better ideas?_ » Lucario asked.

Zelda started to speak, but another volley of arrows falling upon Elice's barrier put paid to her response.

Link turned to the rest of the group and motioned toward the tube, and all at once, everyone rushed to enter. Lucario was the first one in, with Marth hoisted over his shoulder. Zelda hesitated for the smallest of seconds, then followed after.

Link inched closer to Elice as she was bracing for the next volley. They both waited for a moment, mustering what little energy they could, and both broke for the tube. The princess was about to clear the side of it, but paused, awestruck by the impenetrable blackness that stretched downward into its yawning mouth. Link couldn't help but stare himself; even he had to admit how intimidating it was.

Just then, an arrow caromed off the stone wall beside them missing his ear by inches. With no time to lose, Link hastily lifted Elice over the side, not giving her the chance to struggle against him, and watched as she vanished into the dark below. After wrestling his conscious mind into silence, he vaulted in, shutting his eyes as he plunged into the depths.

The whole way down, he never felt like he was falling.

* * *

The sun had just begun to rise when the alert came in about the activation of a seldom-used pipeway. It was probably nothing; most of the time these things worked out to be a glitch or a false alarm. Maybe an animal had stumbled into it, or perhaps a Piranha Plant had finally flowered in there. The last thing Luigi needed was another infestation to deal with – he'd barely gotten over the last one.

Whatever the case, Mario approached the task with characteristic enthusiasm. Luigi marched after his older brother clutching the nozzle of his vacuum and thanking his lucky stars that the alert came out of Petal Meadows; a peaceful job in a quiet, wide-open locale was just the therapy he needed after last night's misadventure through the lakeside ghost house – he still hadn't finished cataloging that evening's captures.

It wasn't long before they spotted the source of the problem. Sure enough, a perfectly ancient-looking pipe had emerged from a field of wild roses, covered in about an inch of dirt and lichen, and from the sound of it, something was coming through. Mario was already loosening up for a possible fight. Luigi stepped to the side, watching and listening as the telltale humming and thumping of pipeway transit grew louder. His grip tightened around the neck of his vacuum.

Suddenly the pipe grew quiet. The brothers watched it suspiciously, keeping a lookout for trouble and imagining what kind of oddity could emerge.

A minute went by, and the pipe showed no sign of activity. Luigi looked to Mario for an answer, but the older man only shrugged.

 _False alarm,_ Luigi thought, and he and Mario turned back. Suddenly, the pipe shuddered as a dreadful clamor emanated from within. Whatever was coming in, it was just about there.

Luigi jumped back as the first few came flying out. He didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't people, especially ones dressed in such ornate finery, armed with swords and staves, and accompanied by a strange-looking animal. The last one, a man dressed in a green tunic and hat, was spat out hard onto his back, where he lay groaning against the shock of landing. Its work completed, the pipe retreated into the ground to rest once more.

The strangers all stirred, but remained on the ground amidst the flowers. Mario took the initiative and approached one of them – the green-clad swordsman drew his interest in particular. The two of them stared each other down for an uncomfortably long stretch of time before either of them could find something to say.

"Er...hi?" the youngster muttered. Mario leaned back and rubbed his chin in thought.

Luigi let out the breath he'd been holding. The Princess would have to hear about this.

* * *

 _Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my patient followers, to my good friend Shroom of Doom, and my mysterious friends known only as Guest. I encourage you to make an account and reach out to me; I'd very much like to speak with you!_

 _I suppose I owe you all an explanation, so I'll try to keep it brief. My mental health hasn't exactly been the best lately, and motivation to write has been running rather low. It was only recently that I decided I'd had enough and finally wrapped up this chapter, and I'm feeling much better now that I have. Hopefully this sets a precedent for later installments._

 _But we finally got out of the way of the Hylian army, and had our first major boss battle against Zant! It's amazing what a difference of four or five people will make when battling superhuman assassins, eh, Zelda? Truth be told, it was that fight which made the development of this chapter drag on for so long; finding the right descriptors and coming up with ways to avoid repeating names turned out to be a taller order than I might have imagined. Hopefully it doesn't lose you guys._


	15. Ch 15: Strangers In a Strange Land

_Guess who's back? As always, my sincerest thanks and deepest apologies to all my readers and followers, both old and new. Now, on with the show._

* * *

Hylian soldiers milled listlessly around the spot where a pipe once stood, collectively wondering just what happened. One moment, their quarry was within an arrow's reach. The next, a mysterious tube whisks them off to Gods know where. Above the mountains' peaks, out of earshot of the confused men below, a pair of shrill voices echoed in contest with one another.

"Are you satisfied now, Koume?"

"Am _I_ satisfied? Should I be now that your pet assassin has failed a second time, Kotake?"

"It was your idea to employ an assassin in the first place, you decrepit pile of keese guano!"

"What does it matter whose idea it was? The fact remains that we promised the Queen's head to both the Chancellor and the Demon King, and thanks to this latest blunder, we've nothing to show for it!"

"Oh, the King will be so displeased..."

"I'd sooner endure the wrath of the King than another one of the Chancellor's conniptions. At least pain has an end!"

"Look on the bright side, Koume. Wherever it is the Queen may have ended up, it's unlikely she could leave so easily."

"I think you're onto something, Kotake. She may be out of reach for now, but she'll be easily cornered if she tries to escape."

"And then we make good on our promise!"

"How delightful! This is good news indeed!"

"Many thanks, dear Zant! Your ineptitude may well have afforded us a great advantage!"

With a piercing chorus of laughter, the twin witches rode off into the sky.

* * *

Were it not for the burning in his chest and the splitting ache in his ears, Link might have thought he was dreaming. From narrowly escaping certain death to supine in a serene field of wildflowers, in the company of two strange...men, he supposed, boasting dwarfish, exaggerated features accented with audacious facial hair.

The shorter and stouter of the two, a bright-eyed fellow smart in his red cap, stood over him with a look of childish bewilderment belying his obvious age. The other, leaner and clad in an understated green, stood a comfortable distance away, knuckles white under his gloves as he nervously clutched at a mysterious tool. Or might it have been a weapon?

Marth and Elice were in no condition to present or be presented, and Zelda wasn't going to be in a speaking mood. As the official envoy of the Kingdom of Hyrule, Link knew that it fell to him to open dialogue.

His frustrated brain floundered for an embarrassingly long time, but at last produced a sluggish, "Hi?"

The short man rubbed his chin in thought while his partner let out a heavy sigh. "Hey there," one or the other replied.

At the very least, these strangers weren't hostile. Link sat up to examine the rest of the party. Lucario was setting Marth down on the ground, to the latter's breathless protests. Elice took her place beside her brother as Zelda found the strength to lift herself to her knees. She spared a single glance toward the rest of the party before her eyes were drawn to something else.

Curious, Link scanned the horizon, and wondered again whether he was dreaming. The sun peered out from beyond the horizon in a manner indicating daybreak, though he could have sworn it had just set. Yet even in the nascent dawn, the land was blanketed in incredible color, each hill a perfect dome on the horizon, and every plant in full flower even under the shadow of night – a far cry from the desolate mountain vista he had just escaped from. In the distance, a bright collection of steady lights shone in defiance of the dark night around them, and in the center of it all stood a remarkable structure, unmistakably a castle. He caught himself staring before too long, and returned his attention to representing his kingdom.

He struggled in vain for something to say.

Then the man in red took broke the silence. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"I don't think so," Link replied, unsure whether the word "here" actually meant anything anymore.

"Well, you guys sure came a long way to get lost."

"We did?" This was becoming absurd. Link shook his head free of the weight this interview was starting to burden him with. "Look, we just need some help. Can you point us to the nearest town?"

The two men smiled and nodded to each other. The one in green deigned to step closer. "How'd you like to go see Toad City? It's not too far a walk from here, and we need to take you back that way anyhow."

Marth tried to say something in response, but stopped to stifle an agonized groan.

Elice took over. "Please, my brother is injured. Could you spare us any aid?"

"What happened to him?"

« _One or two cracked ribs, from the look of it,_ » Lucario said.« _Nothing life-threatening, but he's in considerable pain. I don't know how far he'd be able to walk._ »

"I got just the thing," said the red-capped fellow. He reached into his pocket and produced an enormous mushroom. "Take a bite of this and you'll feel good as new."

Marth started at the thing, uncertain. "It's...looking at me," he muttered.

"Not really. Just try to ignore it."

Link watched as Marth took the mushroom from his benefactor's hands. Holding his breath, he quickly took a bite from the mushroom's bulbous cap. After a labored gulp, he brought a hand to his chest, and his eyes widened as the pain faded from his expression.

Elice took hold of him and helped him to stand. "How do you feel?" she said.

"Strangely enough, I feel good as new," the prince replied. He turned his attention to the two men. "You have my thanks. Pray, to whom do I owe the pleasure of my rescue?"

"The name's Mario. That's my little brother, Luigi."

Link finally remembered to stand. "We appreciate the help, but it's sort of important that we keep moving," he said. "You said something about a city?"

Luigi nodded enthusiastically. "It's been a while since we had any visitors. The Princess is gonna want to speak to you guys."

With that, Zelda stood. "Then by your leave, direct us to her with all haste," she said. "We'll explain what we can on the way."

* * *

Zelda didn't seem pleased that introductions were kept brief and informal, but after the tempestuous affairs of the previous day, Marth was having a hard time giving a damn about diplomatic ceremony. His injury was healed, his sister was in good health and spirits, and the company had a clear line of sight to safety. As far as he was concerned, everything was going perfectly fine.

All the same, something seemed amiss. An eerie sense of foreboding was the last thing Marth expected to feel while traipsing through a field of wildflowers, but the landscape was so gorgeous as to be uncanny, and there was a disturbing lack of anything resembling wild fauna. It was as if nature had cordoned this particular section of whatever world this was and declared that it would be absolutely perfect. If there ever was such a thing as an enchanted kingdom, this would be it. He made a note to apologize to Zelda once they were in sanctuary.

An even greater oddity than the environment, however, were the two brothers. Watching their reactions as he, Link, and Elice explained their plight would have been comically charming had they not been so unsettling. Once the thought of costumed jesters crossed his mind, it was a difficult notion to be rid of.

"You sure had it rough coming here," Mario said.

"Indeed," Marth said. "But if we are to take the fight back to Hyrule, we must better acquaint ourselves with adversity."

"Well, there's not a lot of 'adversity' here," Luigi said. "Not unless you spend a day following Mario around."

"What's that supposed to mean?" his brother snapped.

"I'm just saying it wasn't my idea to go through the ghost house at peak haunting hour."

"That's the best time to go catch them! If we don't do it then, we end up having to chase them out of the house!"

"Two Greenies in the pantry is better than a million of them on their home turf!"

"You met your capture quota, I got my night's exercise, and we got the job done. Nothing to complain about, if you ask me."

Marth couldn't help but smile as his sister failed to stifle a laugh. Perhaps he was onto something with his idea of jesters.

"When we have a moment to spare, you must regale us with stories of your heroism," Elice said.

"That's nothing," Luigi mumbled. "Wait until you hear about the giant, feral Piranha Plants."

Marth considered asking just what the hell a Piranha Plant was supposed to be, but thought better of it. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed toward the city in the distance. The closer they drew, the more he recognized the sheer enormity of it; it was as wide as it was dense, with dozens of buildings clustered over a single thoroughfare. Residences were scattered here and there, with more no doubt hidden within the sprawling reaches.

Even more magnificent than the city was the castle – it stood at the very center of the city, a monolithic edifice flanked by great towers, with a single grand spire in the center. Yet for all its immense beauty, Marth saw nothing he could say was truly powerful, and it soon became obvious why – there were no ramparts, no battlements, no defensive armament of any kind that he could discern. If the people here were confident that they needed no protection, this was truly the perfect place to seek refuge.

He stopped short to avoid colliding with Zelda. She must have stopped to appreciate the sights.

Mario grinned back at them. "You think it looks good all the way out here?" he said. "Wait 'til you're actually inside."

* * *

Only after Marth nearly walked into her did Zelda notice she was no longer moving. She needed to try not to let this become a habit.

When she and the party passed through the gates into the city proper, Zelda had all but forgotten the weariness that racked her body and soul from the tribulations of the past few days. Every step she and her compatriots walked revealed a new curiosity, not the least of which being the citizenry. These peculiar beings stood shorter than the two brothers, with small, friendly faces rising up and beaming brightly as they passed. Each one sported a ludicrous headpiece decorated with red or green spots. Exactly the sort of creature that would make a home out of this place.

The brothers called them "Toads." _How interesting._

Before long, she found herself remembering her days in the nursery. Her attendants would tell stories of lands much like this one, where magic had grown and permeated every aspect of it. Most of these stories took place in "Ancient Hyrule," or some equivalent realm of fantasy, but the luxuries this world had to offer were remarkably similar – lamps that burned without flame, carts drawn their own power, and an idyll as soft and quiet as it was impenetrable.

This place, so splendid and so surreal, would have given pause to any casual visitor. But for all its mystic charm, Zelda was hard-pressed to find much hint of any actual mysticism.

This didn't escape Lucario's notice. « _You don't look like you're too interested in sightseeing,_ » he thought, to her alone.

She nodded slightly. _A place like this ought to have magic hanging thick in the air. Yet all I sense is a sort of lasting trace. Something barely there._

 _«I was wondering if you'd noticed. I keep thinking I see something, but it's so faint that it's hard to keep track of.»_

 _It isn't as if there's_ nothing _here. But to try to glimpse it is like trying to anticipate a flash of lightning._

 _«Think our new friends here know anything about magic?»_

 _I'm not sure. I would ill think to pose such difficult inquiry too early._

 _«Speaking of, you know you're going to have to bring up that note you found.»_

 _As that was my only clue to this realm's existence, it would only be prudent._

 _«Not just that. You'd think something like this would be common knowledge, especially to the scholars of Hyrule.»_

 _Like as not, it is. Stories, legends, scripture – all too often do we find what was once called 'history' is suddenly called 'myth.'_

 _«This isn't some fairy-tale dream world, Queen Zelda, and it's certainly not a myth. Not anymore, anyway.»_

"Is something the matter?" Elice's voice shook Zelda's concentration, ending her private conversation with Lucario.

She looked to the princess and tried thinking a response, only to remember they had no such telepathic connection. "I was merely taking stock of our surroundings," she said aloud. She then turned her attention to their new guides. Questions need answering. "Might I be so bold as to inquire whether you have any knowledge of magic?"

Mario motioned to Luigi. "He does, just a little bit."

"Not really," Luigi corrected. He pointed to the contraption strapped to his back. "Whenever I trap something magical in the ol' Poltergust, some of its power just kind of hangs around."

"You siphon magic power through that device?" Marth asked.

"That's the easiest way of putting it."

"What becomes of the creature inside?"

The younger brother started to say something, but then stopped to ponder the question further. Eventually, Mario answered in his place with a dismissive shrug.

 _Perhaps it's best that we don't know,_ Zelda thought to herself. "How much farther to the palace?"

Mario must have been waiting all day to hear that. "In a hurry? No problem! We're just going to take a quick shortcut-"

"No, we're not," Luigi said, tugging at the elder brother's wrist. "We can't lead official guests to the kingdom through some dank alley. Who knows what kind of trouble they could get into?"

"I assure you," Marth said, "We're more than capable of handling ourselves."

"Then it's settled!" Mario broke free of Luigi's grasp and started down a narrow side street. Luigi sighed resignedly and followed closely after, weapon clearly drawn.

Zelda glared death into the back of Marth's skull as she trailed behind him. A moment's respite once again beyond her reach.

* * *

From the wide, sunlit city streets to a miserable alleyway in the shadiest part of town. Mario sure knew how to pick them. Luigi tried to keep his nerves and muscles as steady as possible; it was his first time being an ambassador – not accounting for their hilariously monumental failure in Sarasaland some years back – and he didn't want to disappoint their guests. After more than a few minutes' walk through the back street, however, he knew this would prove to be a most difficult endeavor.

"Are we sure this is a shortcut?" Link asked. Good head on his shoulders, that boy.

"It's pretty much a straight shot from here," Mario said. "I know there's not much interesting to look at, but we won't be staying long enough to get bored."

Luigi had to disagree; there was plenty to look at down here. The parasitic fuzzies and the shifty-looking Toads that dotted the length of this passage were no doubt infinitely entertaining to the adventurous types like his brother, but strangers would be hard-pressed to find ways to deal with them if they struck out.

"It's as if the walls have eyes," Elice muttered.

« _They do,_ »Lucario said, causing Luigi's already-racing heart to skip a beat. « _People are watching from behind every corner. Be on your guard._ »

"Seems no place is every truly free of danger," Marth mused.

"Trust me, I go this way all the time," Mario said. "We'll be there in no-"

A voice from the darkness cut short his reassurance. "Well, if it it isn't the Mario Brothers!"

Luigi sighed, relaxing the tension in his back. It was only _those_ two again.

Out from behind a trash bin waddled two familiar faces. Little more than mushroom-capped heads atop stubby legs, bearing a frown that might have looked threatening if sported by anything else. On a Goomba, it just seemed pathetic. On these particular Goombas, it was almost amusing.

"Or should I say, Mario _Losers_?" one said.

His partner laughed. "'Mario Losers! Good one, Goomez!"

"Beat it, you two," Mario said. "We don't have time to teach you this lesson again."

"The only lesson anyone's learnin' today is that no one goes through here without payin' the toll, Mario _Posers_!"

The second Goomba was nearly beside himself now. "Mario Posers! Keep 'em, comin', Goomez!"

"Shut up, Gomer!"

Luigi holstered his vacuum. "How about we call this off today, guys? We have an important job to do here, if you haven't noticed."

"Oh, we noticed, all right." Goomez said.

"Hey, get a load of their outfits," Gomer drawled. "Fancy duds like that, I'll betcha they got coins for days! Maybe even weeks!"

"Yeah, you're right! Bad news, Mario _Blubbers._ The fee just went up!"

"I didn't come this far to be undone by common thugs," Zelda said. "Stand aside or be forced aside."

"See that, Goomez? The little lady thinks she can take us!"

"She won't have to," Link said, stepping forward.

Mario stopped him before he could draw his blade. "Let us handle this," he said.

Luigi rolled his eyes. At least they were only Goombas. If anything, this would be the perfect chance to salvage their first impression.

At once, both of them charged. In an instant, and with a technical certainty that Luigi truly envied, Mario jumped into the air and bore all his weight down on Goomez's head, instantly flattening him, and eliciting a startled gasp from one of their guests.

Now reduced to the dimensions of a coin, Goomez shuffled frantically to and fro, trying to find purchase on his surroundings. Once he found his bearings, he scurried away, vanishing into the darkness.

"You'll pay for that!" said Gomer as he launched himself into the air.

Luigi took that as his opportunity, leaping to meet the hapless fungus fist-first in midair. Spun around by the force of the blow, Gomer landed upside-down and helpless on the ground. Mario saw his opening and strode forward, and with a single mighty kick, sent the Goomba flying gracefully into a garbage bin.

The battle thus ended, Luigi turned and bumped fists with his brother. It wasn't much of a fight, but the occasion called for a bit of punctuation for the sake of their audience.

"Not bad, huh?" Mario said to them.

"Impressive showing indeed," Marth said. "Would that all our foes could be so easily dispatched."

"Brigands or no, I confess no small measure of concern for them," said Elice.

"Oh, they'll be fine," Luigi replied. "We've done this hundreds of times with millions of Goombas. If they're is anything like the rest, they'll be good as new by tonight."

"But before any of that, you still need to get to the castle," Mario said hastily. "Stick with us and we'll make it there in time for breakfast."

Luigi's heavy heart lightened. No matter how badly a day started, a royal breakfast was always a winning proposition. With not another word wasted, they once again started on their way. Seemed they had a career in diplomacy after all.

* * *

 _Author's Note: I am committed as ever to continuing this story, make no mistake about that. I only hope that I can start devoting more time to it now that I have a more definite sleep and work schedule. As for this chapter, I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of excuses (not that I didn't already mention in the previous A/N, anyway) so I'll just sort of hope you all can understand._

 _Now that we're officially in the Mushroom Kingdom, I thought it best to get a little bit more breezy with the language. One of the things I truly adore about the latter-day Final Fantasies is the writers' compunction to have everyone speak in this gorgeous, intelligent (if a bit excessive) prose. This, obviously, is beyond the wit of something like a Goomba, and even the Mario Bros. themselves don't old themselves to a rigid lexicon, so I'm hoping the shift in tone doesn't jar anyone too much. I can always change tack if I need to, so let me know._

 _But hey, the Mario Bros. are finally here! The astute reader will no doubt have noticed that I write from Luigi's perspective rather than Mario's. My reason for this is simple, and common knowledge to longstanding fans of the franchise: he's the one that does all the big thinking. He has a personality, depth, vivacity, and roundness that allows him to act and react in accordance with his brother's ridiculous heroism. I might do something from Mario's perspective once I figure out what exactly I think his character is supposed to be._


End file.
